A Whisper That Could Blow A Chasm Wide
by mirrorballsymphony
Summary: The story if what could happen if Samuel Vimes died. Includes arguments with Death, Vetinari's eyebrow (in copious amounts) and Nobby Nobbs Investigates, which I'm sure should be made into a TV programme. Rated T for paranoia and an unexploded bosom.
1. Chapter 1

**This is the story of what would happen if Sam Vimes died. Be prepared for assassins, Nobby Nobbs Investigates and an unexploded bosom. You have been warned. **

**Please review :)**

**Edited for continuity 3/1/13**

* * *

The news spread like wildfire.

Sybil Ramkin heard it first, of course, having woken up and found out.

The next person to find out was Willikins, the butler, because he was faced with the unexploded bosom of Sybil Vimes at her angriest. This was not something that any man should have to be faced with at six o'clock in the morning.

The next person to hear about it was Captain Carrot Ironfoundersson, because Willikins was sure that the man could stand up better to Sybil than he could. And Carrot went up to the Palace and informed the Patrician, because that was the sensible thing to do.

And the Patrician raised one eyebrow and asked, 'Really?'

He already knew. You didn't stay leader of Ankh-Morpork if you were second with the news.

The news returned to the Watch House by means of rumour and the assistance of the Canting Crew, preceded by Foul Ole Ron's smell and Gaspode, who had told Angua on the howl. It had happened at midnight. Dogs had a way of sensing these things.

Eventually, as would be the way, the news returned to Scoone Avenue. Sybil opened the door to some stranger wearing all black.

'Is it true?'

She slammed the door, but it was stopped by a dagger placed in between the slam.

'I'll take that as a yes, Lady Ramkin,' she said smoothly.*

*The Assassin's Guild had started to accept girls, on the premise that if anyone is good at backstabbing, it's a woman.

Sybil narrowed her eyes at the girl. 'You're an assassin, right?'

'Correct, Lady Ramkin. Jocusta Wiggs, at your service.' The assassin held out a perfectly manicured hand, which Sybil pointedly didn't take. 'I fell into your late husband's cesspit about ten years ago.'

'Ah, I remember you. You had grown too cocky, Sam said.'

'I have learned the error of my ways, your grace. Slipping across a roof of a mansion on a tile on greased rails, along with the subsequent half an hour in a cesspit does that to you.'

'I see,' Sybil said distractedly. 'And do the watchmen know?'

'I presume so. I saw your butler running to Pseudopolis Yard about five minutes ago.'

'Willikins wouldn't run.'

'I apologise,' the girl said silkily. 'I meant to say "proceeding with haste", your grace.'

'And you can quit the your graces.'

'I apologise.' The girl gave a winning smile. 'I just came to reassure you that none of our employees had anything to do with the death, as I'm sure you have gathered from the lack of marks on the body and the lack of someone swimming in the pond.'

Sybil was insulted. 'You know the pond isn't the only trap. It's just that everyone sees a pond and presumes that they're going to be tipped into it.'

'Forgive me, I didn't mention the bear trap in the shrubbery.'

Sybil nodded.

'Or the carefully arranged knives around the roof.'

Another nod.

'Or the surprisingly deep ho-ho.'

'Better, girl. And you're sure no assassin did it.'

'His name's been taken off the register for the last ten years. Nobody would dare attempt to take his life anyway after the... flag incident.' The girl shuddered.

'Yes, I bet you'd never seen a flag stuck up there before, had you?'

'No, your grace.'

'Or so far up.'

'No, your grace. Or any man in quite so much pain and humiliation.'

'A clever trick. So, I suppose everyone else knows.'

'It seems so, my lady.'

'And quit the "my lady"s too, thank you. Now, I'm afraid that I have a lot of work to get on with, so would you be so kind as to vacate the premises?' Sugar laced with cyanide dripped from her words. The girl nodded.

'Of course. And Sybil,' she added as the door began to shut, 'I'm sorry for your loss.'

The door opened a fraction wider.

'Thank you,' Sybil replied softly.

She leaned back against the heavy door and breathed.

* * *

'Is it true, Nobby?'

'Seems so, sarge.'

Fred Colon looked at his friend with concern. 'Nobby, what's that in your breastplate?'

''S a flower, sarge. Picked it up this mornin'. Thought it'd be a nice touch.'

'Can I see it?'

'Sure, sarge.' Nobby passed it over the front desk.

Colon picked up the... item... apprehensively. Those who were given something by Nobby tended to, even if it hasn't touched his skin.

'This is a stick, Nobby.'

Nobby nodded. 'Well, 's winter, sarge. Ain't many flowers around. Anyhow, I thought it'd be symbolic an' all.'

'Symbolic of what?'

'Death, sarge.'

Colon nodded in what he thought was a pensive manner, but actually made him look more cross-eyed. 'Ah, I see. Very appropriate.' He handed it back and Nobby stuck it behind his ear.

He sighed. He'd known the man for what, forty years? Seen him through the ranks as a rookie, a twerp, an idiot until he became the senior officer and commanded them all. And the Watch now had over sixty members and eight watch houses across the city.

Who would run them now?

* * *

Up above* Samuel Vimes and Death were having an argument.

*Except for trolls, whose heaven is below.

IAM SORRY, MY LORD, BUT IT WILL BE FRED COLON. HE IS THE OLDEST. IT IS LOGICAL.

'Nope, sir. It'll be Carrot. Vetinari isn't so much of an idiot to appoint Colon as Commander of the Watch. The man's a bloody idiot.'

BUT IT IS LOGICAL. RESPECT GOES TO THE OLDEST MEMBER, AND COMMAND IS BEQUEATHED ON THEM.

'Not necessarily. Experience and intelligence are valued too, and Fred Colon lacks in both. And he's a blinkin' coward, too. Look at all of that problem when we went to Bonk.'

You couldn't beat Death's poker face. THE RIVER OR THE TOWN?

'A bit of both.' Vimes frowned. 'Is it sir?'

Death shrugged. Vimes wondered where he had picked the habit up from. I SUPPOSE IT COULD BE. ALTHOUGH MOST PEOPLE ARE LESS RESPECTFUL.

'I bet.' Vimes tried to scuff up the dust under his corporeal feet, but it stayed resolutely unscuffed. 'So, I'm dead, right?' It seemed the right thing to say.

WELL NOTICED, COMMANDER.

'I prefer Blackboard Monitor, if its alright with you. And how did you pick up sarcasm?'

HAVE YOU NEVER MET MY GRANDDAUGHTER?

Vimes thought for a minute. 'Slight woman, white hair, eyes that bore into your soul?'

YES, THAT WOULD BE HER.

'I saw her a couple of years ago. Actually, it must have been about twenty.'

THAT MUST HAVE BEEN THE BUSINESS WITH THE MUSIC WITH ROCKS IN.

'Yeah, think so.' Vimes's memories of that point in time were sketchy. Alcohol did that to you.

I'M AFRAID THAT I WAS... OTHERWISE ENGAGED.

'Everyone needs a holiday, eh? That's what Sybil's always telling me.' He paused. 'Used to tell me.'

INDEED, COMMANDER. Death straightened up his robes. NOW, IF YOU'D BE SO KIND AS TO COME WITH ME.

'I have another option?'

THAT WAS A DISGUISED IMPERATIVE. ALTHOUGH IT WOULD BE INTERESTING TO SEE WHAT KIND OF ZOMBIE YOU WOULD MAKE.

'Bits falling off you? No good for a copper; stab someone and leave your arm behind.'

OR A GHOST.

Vimes considered it. 'Would they be able to see me?'

NO.

'Would they be able to hear me?'

NO.

'Would they be able to sense me?'

NO.

Vimes was perplexed. 'So, I gather, there is not much point to being a ghost. '

MANY PEOPLE GET BORED OF IT AFTER A WHILE.

'I see.'

Death looked at him sympathetically, well, as far as a skull could look sympathetic. YOU WANT TO STAY?

'I guess everyone does.'

FOR WHO? SYBIL, YOUNG SAM, THE WATCH?

'He's twelve now, and already taller than me.' Vimes sighed. 'Not exactly young anymore. Well, neither am- was I.'

THEY WILL TREAT IT AS SUSPICIOUS, YOU KNOW.

For a minute, the ghost of Samuel Vimes grinned. 'This should be fun. And I get to watch?'

I'M NOT ENTIRELY SURE. SOMETHING HAPPENS WITH SCALES, OR SOMETHING... Death shrugged. 'MY DOMAIN IS IN BETWEEN. I DON'T HAVE MUCH TO DO WITH THE AFTERLIFE.

'How about gods? Know much about them?'

I KNOW ABOUT THE PEOPLE THAT THEY HAVE KILLED. SOME METHODS WERE QUITE INVENTIVE.

'Happy days,' murmured Vimes. He looked at Colon and Nobby, still arguing, and sighed. 'Gods help us all if one of them gets to be in command.'

* * *

In the end, the gods were almost called into action.

Angua knocked on Carrot's door. 'Carrot?'

'Come in.'

She opened the door tentatively, dislodging the piles of paper that had accumulated. 'Oh, Carrot. Come on.'

He turned to look at her. 'They cleared it out yesterday. It wasn't the same.'

'All of the paper?'

'Yep. Every last slip, every last summons, every last payslip.'

'And there's a floor there?' Angua asked incredulously.

'I'm trying not to put too much weight on it, just in case.'

Angua walked over carefully and pulled up a chair opposite him. 'Carrot, you've got seniority. You'll become the commander. You've got to buck up soon.'

He nodded. 'I know, but...' He looked around sadly. 'It just won't be the same.'

'You know nothing's the same after someone's died.'

As if on cue, Sally entered and stared at their sombre faces. 'Everything alright, you two?'

Angua tipped up her chair and sighed dramatically. 'Sally, tell Carrot he's the best person for the job.'

Sally walked daintily across the room and placed her hands on the desk. 'Captain Carrot,' she said softly 'You are the one here who has the most experience, the most tolerance and the best managerial skills. You transformed the Watch and have actually made them popular with the good citizens of Ankh-Morpork.'

Carrot stared blankly ahead, not even questioning the sarcasm. Angua sighed.

'Sergeant von Humperding, a word?' she asked politely. She dragged Sally outside.

She leant against the wall of the corridor and watched Sally for a moment. 'You know Carrot, right?'

'Not as well as you do.'

Angua decided to ignore that little quip. 'And you know that ever since Vimes died, eight days ago, he's been in his office, trying to bring him back.'

Sally nodded, and she continued. 'And you know that Carrot is single handedly the most sensible person I know and the most immune to sarcasm or subtlety.'

'Yep.'

Angua slipped down the wall until she was sitting on the floor. 'I don't know what to do, Sally. I never thought he'd get like this, I thought he'd just step into the role and fill it. And now he's curled up in that room not talking to anyone.'

Sally shrugged. 'Angua, he's just lost his role model. Vimes was like a dad to him.'

'I know, but this isn't Carrot. That person in the room isn't Carrot.'

Sally furrowed her eyebrows. 'And you've tried everything?'

'Yep.'

'Even-'

'You know that doesn't work on him, Sally. We've discussed this.'

The vampire nodded. 'Let me see what I can do.'

She walked back into the room and slammed her hands onto the desk. 'Captain Carrot,' she said venomously. 'At the moment you have left the Watch, your Watch, out there with no guidance.'

'Sally, I've tried this,' Angua interjected.

Sally ignored her. 'And you know who'll have seniority if you don't take it?'

Carrot turned to look at her.

'It's Nobbs and Colon, captain. You're leaving the City of Ankh-Morpork Watch under the care of Fred Colon and Nobby Nobbs.' She leaned closer to him. 'And I think that could be considered a federal crime.'

Carrot's eyes snapped into focus. 'Nobby and Colon.'

Sally stepped back and looked at him.

'Nobby and Colon?'

Sally turned to Angua, who was staring with her mouth open, asking herself why she hadn't tried that. 'This better, Angua?' she asked.

Angua nodded and shut her mouth. 'Sally, you're promoted to Captain. Unofficially, for now, but give it time.'

Sally nodded. 'Thank you, captain. Now, if you'll excuse me.'

Carrot's eyes were gradually widening as he looked around the room. 'What did Mister Vimes use to do with the paperwork?'

'Nothing, Carrot. He'd put it in his 'in' tray*.'

*AKA the floor.

'Right.' Carrot stood up. 'I'm going to see the Patrician, Angua, and seriously prod buttock.'

'I'm not sure that he has any,' Angua murmured. 'And Carrot, you still have to do the paperwork.'

Carrot's face fell. 'I do? Can't I delegate?'

'Carrot, Vimes used to delegate to you. You can't delegate to yourself.'

'Oh.' Carrot's face stayed moody for a moment, but then brightened. 'I could delegate it to you.'

'Not a chance, Carrot. Not a chance.'

'Fine.' He sighed. 'How about Mr Pessimal?'

'I thought you liked the man.'

'Oh yes. I'm sure he'll love this job.'

Angua's eyes narrowed. 'Was that sarcasm, Carrot?'

Carrot considered it. 'I don't think so.'

Angua nodded. 'So, Vetinari's?'

'He's summoned me.'

For a moment Angua was dancing inside at the thought that she wouldn't have to be in Carrot's position. That was, for a moment. Until Carrot said, 'Can you come too?'

She sighed. 'Carrot, I've got to-'

'Vimes had me. I need someone.'

Angua looked at his eyes and relented. 'Fine. She smiled. 'Do you think he'll appoint you officially?'

'Don't know,' Carrot replied. 'He might do. Who knows with the Patrician?'

Colon and Nobby watched them go.

'Thank gods I'm not him,' Colon muttered.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

'Nobby?'

'Yeah?'

'You think it was just natural?'

Nobby laughed. 'Ain't you ever met Mister Vimes? He wouldn't go that easily.'

* * *

'Heart attack,' Mossy Lawn confirmed. He leant away from the body to look at the figure of Sybil, leaning against the door frame.

'Are you sure?' she asked dully.

'Fairly sure.' He packed away his instruments, which looked like a medieval torture set, and stood up, wincing as his back clicked. Old age did that to you.

Sybil was gazing out of the window in the direction of Pseudopolis Yard. 'He wouldn't have just left them.'

'He was human, Sybil, even if he denied it. Everyone has to die.'

She nodded slowly, but carried on staring out of the window.

'Have you told Young Sam yet?' Mossy asked.

'I sent a clacks to him yesterday. He's over in Klatch at the moment.'

'What's he studying?'

'The anatomy of elephants. He's trying to find out how they produce so much poo.'

'They never grow up.' Young Sam Vimes had been an avid spectator of some of Lawn's procedures, and considering the nature and profession of some of his clients, Sam had learn a lot about...that...at a very young age. It hadn't stemmed his interest in anatomy.

Sybil seemed to have snapped back into attention. 'No assassin did this.'

'I very much doubt it.'

'One of them told me, you know. Came round to the house the other day and told me that none of them had done it.'

'You can tell from the absence of wounds,' Lawn said dryly.

'And the absence of a note. Guild honour, and all of that.'

'And no one's doubled up wheezing in the Slightly Pink drawing room with Willikins standing over them.'

Sybil nodded again. 'You know, it's only me here now. I was thinking of moving back to Pseudopolis Yard. I used to live there, after all.'

'I would say that would be better, Lady Ramkin. Do you want me to get hold of someone to help you.'

Sybil appeared lost in thought for a moment. 'Please,' she answered eventually. 'Send Angua, you know her. I know Sam loved her.'

Lawn nodded, and left her standing by the window, staring blindly out of it.

* * *

'Excuse me, kind sir.'

Nobby looked up from the front desk, where he had been stacking the coins of the petty cash up and blowing them over. There was no one in the doorway.

He sniffed.

'Foul Ole Ron be along soon?'

The smell of Foul Ole Ron* probably nodded and pulled out a paperback, leaning against the doorframe to read. Absently, the pages flipped over.

Nobby tried to read the front, but it was in curly lettering. He had a problem with printed letters, and had to use a finger to read the headlines in the Times.

Presently, Foul Ole Ron and Gaspode arrived. The Smell sighed and put the book away.

'Alright, Ron?'

'Bugrit,' the begger replied. Nobby took that as a yes.

'Good to see you, Gaspode. They treating you well?'

'Yep,' the dog growled. 'Apart from Arnold, who keeps kickin' me. Jealous that I've got four more legs than him, I expect.'

'You know it was an unfortunate accident, mate.'

'Don't make the kicks any lighter.'

Nobby came out from behind the desk and knelt down in front of the dog. 'Any news?' he whispered conspiritoraly.

'Nope,' the dog said, scratching his ear.

'Come on, Gaspode, you know somethin'. You know everythin' around 'ere.'

'Not today I don't,' the dog said obstinately.

Nobby sighed and looked at the pile of coins on his desk. 'Steak change your mind?'

Gaspode considered. 'Might do. How 'bout two of 'em?'

'Done.' Nobby sat back and listened.

'Well, you know that people are sayin' that it was an Assassin, but you're sayin' it's not 'cos the buggers are too scared?'

Nobby nodded.

'Well, the Assassins have out out a statement sayin' it wasn't them.' The dog sniffed disparagingly. 'All curly letters and everythin'. Says that he's off the contract, no one would ever do it. Guild Honour and all that.'

'Any others being mentioned?'

The dog shrugged, as far as a dog could shrug. 'Some are sayin' he was just old, some are sayin' the Patrician did it to gain more control...'

'The Patrician? Why would he kill Vimes. Vimes is his only ally!'

'Others are sayin' Moist von Lipwig.'

'Why would he do it? From what I've seen he doesn't want to run the bank, let alone the Watch.' Nobby was loyal to the extreme. Nobody was better than the Watch.

'Some are sayin' Captain Carrot.'

'He wouldn't dare. 'Sides, Vimes was like a dad to him.' Nobby sniffed. 'He was to all of us.'

Gaspode hurried on quickly. 'All in all, everyone's spelating.'

'They're what?'

'Spelating. Y'know, wondering who it was.'

'Yeah, that sounds about right.' Most of the Watch could only read words shorter than 'suspect'. 'You want your steak then?'

'I think all that information gives me three steaks.'

'What? You didn't tell me anythin' I didn't know.'

'Well you should have told me what you did know before I started then, shouldn't you? Could have saved a whole ten minutes an' all.'

'Two, an' that's final.'

'Three or I walk.'

'Two, and half a pack of minced steak.'

Gaspode considered this for a minute. 'Done. I'll keep an eye out for you.'

'Good lad.'

They walked out of the Watch House, followed by Foul Ole Ron who was technically walking Gaspode. The Smell hung around for a bit, until he decided that it would probably be more interesting to go to the Library.

Then he saw something out of the corner of his eye. A man had walked in, wearing a white coat. He hurried upstairs.

The Smell of Foul Ole Ron followed.

*The smell of Foul Ole Ron had become so potent that it had gained its own personality. It now frequently attended the opera, though alone, and read the sort of book that used letters which looked more like 'f's than 's's. Ron had been outclassed by his smell.


	3. Chapter 3

**To all those people who are mourning the death of Vimes, I am sorry, but I hope it makes for a good plot :)**

**For all those who are wondering about the Nobby/Angua pairing, can I just confirm now that there is none of... that. Whilst I love both characters, I could never write that. I applaud all those who have the ability to or the lack of a graphic imagination. Anyway, the reason will become clear soon. **

**Enjoy, keep reading and please review :)**

* * *

Angua tilted her chair back until it rested against the fireplace, and stared upwards, thinking.

Well, that had gone quite well.

Carrot had been appointed Commander, of course, and after a few nudges from her he had finally gone forward to accept the badge and the ceremonial truncheon. Angua hadn't put that much trust in the truncheon - someone who had kept it that shiny would have probably known that it would be useless in any fight - but Carrot said that it was symbolic, and that that's what counted.

She had been quite interested to read the inscription on it - 'Protector of the King's Piece.' She had thought it was highly appropriate, and had to fight from bursting out in laughter at the Patrician's blank face.

Carrot had taken over Vimes's office, after a truly... individual speech to the other officers. If you listened to it too closely, half of the things he said were either insults or direct contradictions, but people didn't seem to care.

Tipping back her chair and whistling, she absently rested a hand on her stomach.

The door opened and she quickly leaned forwards and pulled a piece of paper towards her, then looked up at the man. Her eyes narrowed.

'Mossy Lawn? The pox doctor?'

'That's me.'

'Well I'm sorry, but I don't seem to have any problems in that area.'

He shook his head quickly, distractedly. 'No, it's Lady Sybil.'

Angua raised her eyebrows until he went on. 'She wants to see you. She's not...well.'

'Mourning?'

The doctor shifted uncomfortably. 'Kind of. Could you come with me?'

'Sure.' She stood up and pushed her chair underneath the table now overflowing with paper. Well, someone had to carry on with the tradition.

They walked out of Pseudopolis Yard and onto King's Way in silence. As they turned to go down Scoone Avenue Lawn finally spoke up. 'Angua, are you...'

'Am I what?'

He looked at her face, and relented. 'Doesn't matter.'

They had barely walked a few more paces before he spoke again. 'Has Carrot been appointed Commander?'

'Yes.'

'Good job for him. Getting you two a bit of money.'

Angua looked confused. 'He's got enough saved up, you know. And we usually stay apart on that sort of thing.'

'I see, I see,' Lawn murmured.

'See what?'

He stayed silent, and they walked on uncomfortably until they reached the Vimeses and Angua made to go around to the back.

'Can't you come through the front?' he asked.

'Oh, yeah, but it's more traditional this way. Anyway, I'm in uniform, and Vimes says that to get in the front most people need to have enough dresses to match the paint in every single room.'

'And you don't?'

Angua looked at him, eyebrows raised. 'That's a heck of a lot of rooms, sir.'

'Fine, fine.' He waved her in the direction of the back door. 'Do what you want.'

Angua span around and caught sight of his expression. She softened. 'You're really worried about her, aren't you?'

He nodded miserably. 'I delivered Young Sam, you know, and ever since then I've helped her. Oh, I know what you're thinking, the Watch breeds cynicism, but there was nothing like that.'

'Never said there was,' Angua replied smoothly.

They walked up the back staircase together and entered into Lady Sybil's bedroom. Looking around, Angua noticed the differences.

The bed hadn't been made, instead left creased and thrown back on one side only. Vimes's ever present paperwork - he swore that it followed him - had been removed from his desk, and from a crack in the door she could see his clothes had been removed from the wardrobe. The smell was different too, the smoke and worry of Vimes had nearly vanished, leaving only a faint trail. She wondered why, it had only been a week, but then noticed the open windows and bottle of scent on the desk. Sybil had been trying to get rid of him.

Sybil turned round and smiled weakly at her. 'Angua.'

Angua walked over to her and pulled up two chairs by the window. 'Sit down,' she told her.

'I'd rather stand.'

'Sybil.' Automatically, Sybil found herself sitting down quickly. A werewolf in a bad mood did that to you.

Angua observed her for a while. 'You haven't been sleeping.'

Sybil shook her head. 'Would you be able to? If it was Carrot?'

Angua blushed. 'I know you wouldn't be able to, Angua, so I hope you're not going to judge me if I'm missing my dead husband.'

It was so blunt, so cold. Sybil had completely blocked herself off from missing Vimes; she would just get on with it.

'Do you want me to help with anything?' Angua asked quietly.

'You can help me move.'

'Where to?'

'I was hoping Pseudopolis Yard.'

Angua caught her breath. But of course she would move there - her family had owned it, after all, and maybe it would keep her closer to her husband.

'Sure,' she replied. 'Do you... do you want to take Vimes's old room?'

Sybil looked deflated, as if a needle had come along and stabbed her. 'Would it be really bad to say that I didn't?'

'No,'Angua replied instantly. She thought about it a moment, but realised that it was true. She wouldn't be able to sleep in Carrot's room if he was gone. The memories would be everywhere. 'I think there's a spare room on the second floor.'

Sybil exhaled. 'Thank you.'

'Do you want to move now?'

'I think so.' She stood up and went over to the wardrobe, running her fingers along the soft fabrics. 'I'll come back here for the dragons, so I'll keep most of my things here. I'll just move the basic things over there.'

Angua stood up abruptly. 'Do you want to pick out the things you want and put them on the bed. I'll just be a minute... I'm just going to...'

She hurried out of the room abruptly.

She ran through the corridors of the house until she got to the back door, and wrenched it open. Breathing in the cool, cold, unscented* air, she collapsed against the wall.

She breathed in, then out, but couldn't get rid of the smell. She felt tears running down her face and angrily wiped them away, gulping down more tears. But now she knew what the smell was.

'Captain?'

Angua turned round and saw, through streaming eyes, the face of Willikins. She tried to regain her composure.

'I'm sorry, I just...' She waved her hand a couple of times, not knowing how to explain.

To her surprise, the butler patted her on the shoulder. 'I know, it's hard for everyone.'

She tried to catch her breath, but managed to nod. 'I'm sorry,' she repeated.

'Don't be.' He started to walk into the house. 'Do you want me to tell Lady Sybil.'

'No, I'll be fine. I'll just be a minute.'

Willikins nodded and went inside. Angua managed to regain control of her breathing, and just about managed to get the smell out of her nostrils.

There weren't many things that could break down a werewolf. Blood, of course, was one, but there were also.

Poison was another.

* * *

*Well, this was Ankh-Morpork.

* * *

Nobby sat uneasily on his bed at the top of Pseudopolis Yard, thinking about Lady Sybil.

The loss of her husband had almost killed her.

As she had walked into the watch house a few smiling faces had turned to her, remembering who she was, but then got back to their paperwork, embarrassed at looking at the wife of their dead commander.

Nobby had been one of the only people to go up to her and Angua, who had glared at him out of red-rimmed eyes, as if daring him to ask her what was wrong. But it was Lady Sybil who had frightened him.

She looked so fragile, so empty. Nobby always thought of her as someone who filled a room and made the rest of the people fade into the background. Where she went, everyone turned to look at her. Now though, this shell of a woman had been looking back at him.

'Lady Sybil is going to stay here for a while, Nobby. Can you go and see what rooms are free?' Angua paused for a minute. 'Not Vimes's old room, please.'

'Course, miss.'

He had hurried upstairs to find a room, then he took Lady Sybil's hand and led her up to the room, where Angua had deposited her clothes. Leather and armour were the predominant materials, as well as tweed.

'You goin' to be stayin' here long, Lady Ramkin.'

Sybil was staring into the distance as she glanced around the room. Nobby could tell that her mind was somewhere else. Probably with Mister Vimes.

'I don't know, Nobby,' she replied distantly.

'Well if you need anythin', just call, alright?'

'Thank you, Corporal Nobbs.'

Nobby had walked out of the room very carefully, watching her as she stared out of the window. When he had gone back half an hour later she was still standing there, watching the world go past.

Nobby had tried it, to see if it would make any more sense, but he got bored.

* * *

That night, Angua went back to Scoone Avenue alone. She had told Carrot that he had gone to see Mrs Cake.

She crept down the road, padding carefully. She felt the worn cobbles under her paws, but could see the distant trails of people who had walked down the street.

By day, Scoone Avenue was a mass of people, a mass of smells interweaving and colliding. By night, it was deserted. Alone, she went round to the back door and turned to human to turn the handle.

The house was silent, but to a werewolf sounds were only in the background.

She followed Lady Sybil's smell - worry, dragons and a slight hint of a very flowery perfume - into their bedroom. She could smell Mossy Lawn, and then the faint smell of Vimes which made her eyes prick. Gritting her teeth, she moved over to his side of the bed.

She smelt it again.

The acrid, chemical smell of poison.

A sound made her jump, and she span round to see a figure darting out of the room.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Lady Sybil was lying in the narrow bed and watching the cracks in the ceiling. She wondered, in one small part of her brain, how many people had lain here, staring at the cracks, trying not to think of anything else. Probably hundreds; she knew coppers would try to find anything which would distract them from what they had seen.

The rest of her brain, the vast majority of it, was screaming.

Lady Sybil was resilient, so lay there silently on the bed, trying to stop the tears from falling out of her eyes.

She sat up very slowly, making sure to move carefully unless she broke inside. She slipped out of the bed and looked for her tatty old slippers, but realised that she'd left them back at Scoone Avenue.

She opened the door very slowly, wincing at the creak, but padded down the corridor.

Now, where was Carrot's room? Angua would surely be in there.

She wandered through the Yard, looking for the main office - she knew where she was going from there - and finally saw the door. There was a light on behind it.

She opened the door, and Carrot turned around. 'Lady Ramkin,' he said politely.

She stared at him for a minute, memories flooding back.

'Lady Ramkin?'

She shook her head and tried to clear her thoughts. But of course he would be Commander now, hadn't Sam bet on it?

'Sorry,' she found herself saying. 'I was just looking for Angua. I thought she'd be with you.'

'She's gone back to Mrs Cake's for the night. She likes to spend a bit of time there.'

'Alright.' Then Sybil looked at him properly. His normally keen blue eyes were shadowed, and his hair was stuck up as if he had just got out of bed. His shirt had a stain down the front of it, and a faint stubble had just started to grow.

'Carrot, are you alright?'

He nodded wearily. 'Just a lot of work. And I'm worried about Angua, naturally.'

'Why are you worried about her.'

He shrugged. 'I like to know she's safe. And she's been acting strangely for the last couple of weeks.'

'Do you know why?'

'No. She won't tell me.'

She felt moved to pat him on the shoulder. 'Listen, Carrot, you need to get some sleep. And don't worry about the paperwork, it won't run away overnight. You can do it tomorrow.'

He nodded. 'And I'm sure Angua'll be fine. You know she can fend for herself,' she continued. 'She wouldn't want you to worry.'

He sighed. 'I know, I know. But I do anyway. Didn't you do the same thing with Mister Vimes.'

She nodded.

'Well, I'll see you in the morning, Sybil. If you need Angua I can probably go out and find her.'

She waved the offer away. 'No, I'm sure I'll be fine. And so will she, Carrot.'

* * *

Angua sprinted after the figure, who she had to say could run pretty fast.

No speed could outrun a werewolf, though. Thinking about that brought back some bad memories.

It was like the chase. At full moon her family would chase after some poor, luckless soul who had the misfortune to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, so they would be attacked. No person should ever have to die like that.

Even then, when she was ten or eleven or so she could tell that something was wrong. So she would hang back, distant from the rest of the pack, and she wouldn't eat a bit of it until her father ran at her, and she gulped it down out of fear. She always threw it up afterwards, but she knew it was never enough.

Now, running after the figure, she wondered what she would do if she did catch them. She was always terrified.

As it turned out, not even a werewolf would be able to stomach this one.

'Please don't 'urt me, miss,' the figure pleaded.

She looked down her muzzle at him. 'Nobby?' she barked.

He looked sheepish. She barked at him and he obediently turned away as she changed.

After she had pulled on a dress she turned back to him. 'What are you doing here? And quit staring at me!'

'Sorry, miss.'

'What are you doing?'

Nobby shuffled, caught between a rock and a werewolf*.

*Not stuck in between a rock and a hard place, which was a small valley in Lancre. In the Disc metaphors were reality.

'Well, miss...'

'Captain.'

'Well, cap'n, I just didn't think that Vimes'd go that easily, if y'know what I mean. I figured that there'd be a bit more drama, a bit more blood.' Seeing Angua shudder, he apologised. 'Sorry 'bout that, miss.'

'No blood, Nobby, there was no blood.'

'How d'you know?'

Angua raised her eyebrows. 'Really, Nobby, a werewolf can now not detect blood.' She sighed and strode off in the direction of Vimes's bedroom.

'Where are you goin'?'

'Where do you think? Where was the body found?'

Nobby obediently followed her. 'Why are you here, anyway?'

'I smelt something.'

'What, like blood?'

'No Nobby, and trust me, I wouldn't have missed that. More like poison.'

'What sort of poison?'

'I'm not sure. Sort of acrid and chemical, a bit like Lady Sybil's dragons, but more potent. Strong, Nobby,' she added as he looked bemused.

'Right. And you came back to see what it is?'

'Yep. Hopefully. I can see smells better when I'm a wolf.'

'See smells?'

'It's complicated.'

She sensed Nobby nod and stay a bit further away from her, then sighed.

As the entered the room she turned round to Nobby. 'Turn around.'

'Why?'

'Just turn around, Nobby.'

He obliged, as she changed. Immediately as she changed the scent hit her. She breathed deeply, but it only made it worse.

She barked at Nobby and he turned round and nodded at her. Nobby was the only person who treated her the same when she was a wolf to when she was human. She figured it was because he was so many species at once.

She walked over to Vimes's side of the bed, and inhaled. Searching around she found what looked like crushed white powder under the bed, but further sniffing showed it was just chalk. Chalk with a specific smell, chalk from a specific area of the Shades, near to the Whore Pits. Frowning, she remembered her first week at the watch when she was convinced that Vimes had been spending all of his money on women when they had been the pensions of deceased watchmen. He would never do that to Sybil.

She barked at Nobby who had been rifling through the drawers, and he meekly turned around.

'Anything?' he asked.

'Some chalky substance which I've smelt in the Shades. Near Cockbill Street, I think.'

'You think that was the poison?'

She shook her head. 'I can't smell the chemicals on it, though I think it came off a shoe. Maybe Vimes's.'

'Vimes comes from Cockbill Street.'

'Does he ever go there?'

'Don't think so, miss. Doesn't like the memories. His ma died a few years back, and I don't think he's ever been back since.'

'Family troubles.'

'Oh, there's always a few, miss. Old Sconner used to break me arms, you know.'

Angua nodded distantly, because now she could smell something else. Something like...milk? Talcum? All things to do with babies.

'Do you know anyone in Cockbill Street, Nobby?'

'No, miss. They keep themselves to themselves.'

Angua nodded. She knew the sort, and she had always termed them 'Bastards who would try to sell you the time of day' but she was growing more sympathetic.

All of a sudden, she looked out of the window and noticed the full moon. Desperate, she tried to distract Nobby, but he was already looking at where she was staring.

'D'you need to go, miss?'

Angua sighed in relief. 'Yes, please Nobby. I'll be back tomorrow if you want to come too.'

'You want me to have a look round Cockbill Street?'

'Okay, yeah.' She was surprised at his offer. 'You really cared about Mister Vimes, didn't you?'

Nobby hung his head. 'We all did, miss. All the Watch, even if they didn't know 'im.'

'I see.' She paused for a moment. 'Look, Nobby, could you not tell Carrot about this? It'd just make him worry.'

'You want me to hide somethin' from the commander.'

'Yes, Nobby.'

'Won't he go spare?'

'I doubt it, Nobby. After all, he won't find out, will he.'

Nobby, faced once again with the dilemma of a werewolf and a hard place, ran straight into the hard place in the effort to escape.

'Alright, miss.'

'Good.' The moon was just starting to peek of the clouds, and she ran out of the room, leaving Nobby behind, bemused. It was a face he did well.


	5. Chapter 5

**For all of you who have forgotten or didn't know who Reet is, she's the seamstress that Carrot used to date in Guards! Guards! until, presumably, he met Angua. The next bit will probably make more sense with that knowledge :)**

Nobby wandered through the Shades.

Twenty, maybe only ten years ago he would have been lynched for going anywhere near the place, but now the citizens gave him a curt nod and hurried on. They had learnt what would happen if you hurt a police officer, and Nobby Nobbs, in his youth, had been one of the most gifted pickpockets that the residents had ever seen. That sort of thing commanded respect.

As he walked down the street and whistled, he caught sight of a seamstress patrolling the street. He walked over to her.

'Morning, Reet.'

She turned to look at him through mascara caked eyelashes. 'Oh, morning, Nobby. You alright?'

'Yeah, fine.' He lit a cigarette and leaned against the wall out of the wind. 'You know everyone down here, I suppose?'

'Pretty much. Look, Nobby, I've got to earn-'

'You know anyone with the surname Vimes?'

'Like your commander? It's a common name, Nobby.'

'Lives down Cockbill Street?' He offered her a cigarette, which she took and inhaled the smoke.

'There're a couple down there, yeah. Number twenty, I think, down the other end.'

'Thanks, Reet. You need anythin', you just see me.'

She looked disdainfully down at him. 'What about Carrot? Wouldn't it be better to see him?'

The remark should have stung, but it deflected off Nobby, helped by the grease. 'Nah, he'll probably be up in 'is office. He's commander now, you know.'

'Tell him I said hey, all right?'

'Will do.' He started walking down the road but turned again at her shout.

'Eh, Nobby, is 'ee still going out with that copper? Blonde woman?'

'You mean Angua?'

'Yeah, that'd be her.'

'Yep, they're still going out. Have been for what, fifteen years?'

She looked deflated. 'All right, Nobby. Just tell him I said hi.'

'See ya, Reet.'

He continued down the street.

* * *

Angua, in her seventeen years in the Watch, had finally mastered sleeping standing up. She was leaning against the wall with her eyes closed.

'Angua?'

She opened her eyes reluctantly. 'Oh, morning Carrot. You all right?'

'Yeah, fine.' He moved over to the kettle. 'Coffee?'

'Please. Black, two sugars, thick-'

'As treacle, I know. I've been making you coffee for a while.'

She smiled and walked over to him, picking up the mug gratefully. 'Where am I today?'

Carrot leaned over the front desk to check the roster. 'Up by Dolly Sisters this morning, then you're on patrol with Sally this afternoon up on Broadway.'

'Okay.' She slurped the rest of the coffee. 'When am I next on nights?'

'Week after next, when full moon's gone. That's considerate of Colon.'

'Bet you in the next two weeks I'll be on nights for what, eleven days?' she said sarcastically.

'Twelve. Monday through to the Thursday of the week after*.'

*The Discworld has an eight day week. To answer that question we first have to ask why ours only has seven.

'Brilliant. Well, I'll see you later, Carrot. Enjoy the paperwork.'

'I've got A. E. on the case.'

'Well, I'm glad to see you've mastered delegation. It's a great skill.'

'Thank you,' he said solemnly, not picking up on the sarcasm. Angua sighed.

'Oh, listen Angua, Mister Vimes's funeral is next Tuesday up at Small Gods. Eleven o'clock.'

'I thought he would have a state ceremony.'

'That's the Thursday afterwards, but it'll be an empty coffin. He's specifically arranged it.'

'He planned his own funeral? He thought he was going to die?'

'Of course not, Angua. It was a natural death, how could he have known?'

She nodded distantly. 'Is he being kept at the morgue up at Small Gods?'

'I think so, I didn't really ask. Leggie'll be looking after him.'

'I know, I know.' For some reason, she didn't feel like telling Carrot about the poison. 'Well, I'll see you later.'

'See you.'

She walked out of the door and breathed in. Then, her head only slightly fuzzy from lack of sleep, she started walking.

* * *

Lady Sybil Ramkin was bored.

It was not a state of being which came naturally to her, like altruism does to a cat. She had been brought up to take a kind interest in everything, but was finding herself listless. Even the dragons weren't helping - she was sitting on a crate of food in the dragon shed tapping her foot against the concrete floor and fiddling with the clasps on her armour.

The dragons were silent. Come to think of it, there hadn't been any explosions for weeks. It was like they were in mourning. She had had to send away the Interchangeable Emma's, as Sam called them, because there wasn't any work for them to do.

She reviewed her options. She could go and see how the hospital was doing, she could organise the mating books which she had neglected over the past two weeks, she could go down to the watch house, where they had accepted her as one of their own, and have a coffee there...

Just sitting there also sounded like a viable option.

She sighed, and leaned back to close her eyes, but the decision was made for her.

'Lady Sybil?'

Sybil opened her eyes to see Angua looking worried. 'Oh, hi Angua. You alright?'

'Yeah, I'm fine.' She looked distracted, twirling a piece of hair around her finger, but her eyes locked on the disarray that the dragons' pens were in. 'Come on, Sybil,' she said quietly.

Sybil blushed. 'I was just about to-'

'Yes, I bet you were.' Angua walked over to one of the pens and leaned back quickly as a jet of flame shot past her ear. 'Come on, then, let's clean these out.'

'But what will I do tomorrow?'

'Tomorrow Vetinari, who is very worried about you, has arranged for you to go to Quirm to see the Duchess on one of the mail coaches.'

'That's nice of him,' Sybil murmured.

Angua shot her a sharp look. 'We're all worried about what you'll do if you're bored. Half of the watch are betting on the date that they'll have to bring you in, you know.'

'What's the earliest estimate.'

'Tomorrow evening.'

'Why then?'

Angua watched her for a moment. 'Sybil, it'll have been two weeks since Sam died.'

It felt like a knife had been stabbed through her, and she slumped down. Angua walked over to her and lifted her elbow gently. 'Come on,' she repeated.

Sybil let Angua lead her back into the house and sit her down at the table. A mug of something was placed in front of her, and she took a sip, then spat it out.

'Angua, what the hell is this?'

Angua flushed red. 'It's supposed to be sweet tea,' she admitted. 'Apparently you give it to people who've had a shock.'

'How much sugar did you put in?'

'A bit. About seven teaspoons.'

Sybil raised her eyebrows. 'That's enough to give me a heart attack, you know.'

Angua blushed again. 'I don't do cooking. The extent of my culinary capabilities is coffee, to be honest, and Carrot says he's never seen anyone drink coffee like I do.'

'What do you do about food for you and Carrot?'

'We generally just go out or get something with the rest of them.'

'Can he cook?'

'Well, he can make dwarf bread, but that's forged. I've never asked him to make anything else.'

'Well, Angua, one of you is going to have to learn someday. After all, you want kids, don't you?'

Angua flushed, murmured something and quickly took the mug over to the sink. She poured the scalding tea down the plug and winced as some splashed back and caught her arm.

'Angua?'

'I'll make you a coffee, how about that?' Angua said chirpily.

'Angua.'

'Or just a glass of water. I think I can do that.'

'Delphine.'

Angua span round. 'How did you know that?'

'I'm friends with your mother, you must know that.'

'No one's friends with my mother. At least not for long.'

'Well, I use the term loosely,' Sybil admitted. 'Couldn't stand the woman.'

'Join the club. Along with my sister, brother, father and most of Uberwald.'

'Is that what you're scared of?'

'What?'

'Becoming like your mother. When you have kids, I mean.'

Angua carefully sat down on a chair opposite her. 'No,' she said slowly. 'I'm not worried about becoming like her. I'm worried that some day one of my kids will be like her.'

'And you'll feel guilty about having the child in the first place?'

'Pretty much. And look at the family history - my mother, my father, Wolfgang. It doesn't bode well.'

'But you're different to them.'

'How do you know that?' Angua asked angrily. 'Some day a switch might flip and I'll be attacking humans and wreaking havoc. How do you know it won't happen?'

'How do you know it will?'

'We're not exactly the most stable of creatures, Sybil. And what if one of these turns out like Wolfgang, eh?' She gestured to her stomach. 'How do you know they won't be just like him? Or worse? If they're human with that werewolf urge to kill? How can I explain that to Carrot, that there's a possibility his child'll be a murderer?'

Sybil watched her for a moment as she thumped the table. 'One of these?'

Angua raised her eyes from the table and looked straight at Sybil. 'Oh gods.'

'Angua? One of these?'

'Oh shit.' Angua stood up and stormed over to the door.

'Angua?'

'Don't you dare tell Carrot,' Angua said softly. 'Don't you dare. Ever.'

'Angua, why not?'

'Because something's going to happen to them. I know it!'

'Angua, you're just being paranoid.'

'No, I'm not. Call it a mother's instinct or whatever you will, I know.'

'But what's going to happen to them?'

'How am I supposed to know that? I just know something's going to happen and it'll kill him.'

'Carrot?'

'It'll kill him,' Angua repeated. 'And I can't do that to him.'


	6. Chapter 6

Nobby knocked on the door of Number 20, Cockbill Street and smartly stepped back as a guzunder was tipped out of a window.

'Oi!' a voice called.

Nobby looked up at the window. 'Missus Vimes?'

'Aye.' The woman looked at him through narrowed eyes. 'Hey, you're a copper.'

'Off duty, ma'am.'

'Whaddya want with me?'

Nobby tilted his head back further. 'You any relation to Sam Vimes?'

'Could be.' Her eyes widened. 'Hey, you mean your commander. Yeah, 'ee's one of ours.'

'Can I ask you some questions?'

'If you like. Though we've not seen nothin' of him for years.'

'Could you come down, miss?'

'Gimme a minute.' The window slammed and Nobby stood back from the door, rubbing his neck. Soon the door opened.

'Come in,' the woman said. 'Bloody freezin' out there.'

Nobby gratefully walked through the door into the tiny front room-cum-kitchen, and sat down on the stool that the woman offered to him. 'Tea?' she asked.

'Please.'

'Sugar?' she called as she walked into the kitchen.

'Two.'

A steaming mug was brought back to him, and the woman sat in a worn armchair opposite him. It was spotlessly clean, as was everything in the room.

'Yeah, I did know Sam Vimes. I'm 'is sister, actually.'

'I didn't know he had one.'

'Neither did he. But his ma had an affair with some guy down the road, and here I am. I stayed with me dad though, to avoid 'assle.'

'Did he ever find out about you.'

'Yep. He come back here what, a year ago, to see the house. Nostalgic, or whatever. He saw me and the kids, and we got talkin'.'

'He never mentioned it. And you said you hadn't seen him for years.'

Mrs Vimes evidently decided not to answer the second part of that statement. 'He told me he wasn't even tellin' his wife 'bout us. Said she'd get too kind, start givin' us stuff an' makin' us feel rotten.' She took a sip of her tea. 'Married well, I hear.'

'Lady Ramkin.'

'I only ever heard him call 'er Sybil, but I twigged it was 'er.'

'And your kids. Did they like 'im?

'Didn't seem to happy to see 'im, to be honest. Thought he was an ungrateful bastard 'cos he didn't give us anythin'. But it'd make him upset if 'ee couldn't give us everythin'.'

'Can I talk to your kids? How old are they?'

The woman's eyes narrowed. 'I don't think they'd be too 'appy to see a copper.'

'I'll come as a concerned citizen.'

'I bet you will. Coppers never stop being coppers, mate. Not with any amount of cleanin' up or normal folks' clothes.'

'Well, I can try me best, missus.'

She considered it. 'Why are you 'ere anyway?'

Nobby had to think for a minute. 'The Times wants to write a decent obituary.'

'And they need to talk to my lads?'

'Accurate information and all that. Can't have people questionin' the paper.'

'Well, you can see them tomorrow. When does your shift finish?'

'Noon.'

'Come up then.

* * *

Vetinari watched Carrot's eyes carefully as he entered the room, but the odd keenness hasn't left them. In fact, it seemed to burn even brighter.

Carrot saluted. 'Sir.'

'Sit down, commander,' Vetinari told him wearily.

Still standing to attention, Carrot managed to sit down stiffly.

'At ease, commander.'

Carrot still seemed poised to salute, so Vetinari relaxed for him. 'I've heard good things about your work so far, commander.'

'I hope so, sir,' Carrot said cheerfully. 'Of course, there was that trouble with the river police, but no one died, after all. Igor's getting remarkably good at resurrections.'

'Good, good. And I see that Inspector Pessimal has been terrorising the community with his tax revelations.'

Carrot looked downhearted for a moment. 'I was really rather shocked to find out the percentage of Ankh-Morpork citizens who don't pay their taxes.'

'Well I'm sure that they won't be hiding them for much longer. Mr von Lipwig will be ever so pleased.' Vetinari shuffled his papers in a way that created the impression there was something important in there, a trick that had never fooled Vimes but looked to be intimidating his successor. 'So, Capt-Commander, I have been disappointed with the noticeable lack of complaints on my desk.'

'Disappointed, sir?'

'Oh yes, commander. I enjoyed correcting the spelling.'

Carrot nodded, confused, and Vetinari sighed inwardly. 'Do you have anything you need to discuss with me, commander?'

'Yes, actually, sir.' Carrot pulled out a list and Vetinari's heart* sank.

'Item One: the need for a larger forensics room, as Sergeant Littlebottom and Corporal Igor have rather outgrown the current back toilet. They are now having to use the cells for experiments. Cheery suggested one of the back rooms in the old lemonade factory, but not one that Fred Colon has previously used due to the risk of contamination from doughnut crumbs.'

'I will address the matter.'

'Item Two: a greater budget for doughnuts as used by Fred Colon, on account of the valuable information received.'

Vetinari nodded.

'Item 3: even though this isn't technically one of the Watch's demands, I thought it would be important. I want to extend the Dolly Sister's scout group, which has now been amalgamated with the Lobbin Clout and Short Street groups, to include part of the Shades and possibly up to Dimwell Street. It would be better to have one organisation rather than several.'

At this, Vetinari raised his eyebrows. 'You want to integrate the Dollies and the Dimmers? Those two groups that have been feuding since they were villages?'

'Yes sir. I feel that it is best to put these feuds behind us. We are in the Century of the Anchovy, after all.'

'Well, if anyone can do it you can, commander. Carry on.'

'Captain Angua has requested a new office further away from the forensics room. Apparently Igor's experiments have been getting slightly out of hand recently.'

'Tell her to swap with Captain Detritus. That should be far enough, and the floor is reinforced for paperwork.'

'Thank you, sir. And finally, we need another kettle.' After seeing Vetinari's eyebrow rise he carried on quickly. 'The number of troll officers now mean that they have started to boil slate and coke in the kettle, and we felt it best to have two separate kettles.'

'The Silicon Anti-Defamation League will be on my case.'

'I'm sure that they value their clients' rights to have a warm drink.'

'Fair point, Commander, fair point. Is that everything?'

'Yes, sir.' Carrot saluted again and nearly caught the side of Vetinari's head.

'Thank you, commander. You may go.'

Carrot marched out of the room and Vetinari watched his broad back retreating.

He's nothing like Vimes, he thought. But maybe that won't be such a bad thing.

* * *

*There had been a number of debates as to whether the Patrician actually had a heart. To answer them, Vetinari sent a diagram of his heart as seen from Leonard of Quirm's Device-For-Seeing-Through-Flesh, a detailed table measuring his heart rate over a period of a month and a small phial of blood. Those who knew Vetinari well knew better than to ask who the blood had come from.

* * *

**Thank you for reviews/following/faves etc. :) please continue to do so. Review with any tips or views on how it's going so far**


	7. Chapter 7

Nobby walked into the watch house to see Fred Colon glaring at him. It was not a sight that any man* should have to see.

'Alright, Fred?' he said nonchalantly.

'No, Nobby, I'm not.' Fred was pouting; again, not a sight any Nobbs should have to see.

'What's the matter, sarge?'

'You were supposed to come to the Drum with me tonight. And you never turned up!'

Nobby sighed. 'I'm sorry, sarge, but I was out with someone.'

'Who?'

Nobby invented something quickly, which usually took about half an hour. 'Out with Tawnee,' he lied.

'I thought you ended things with her.'

'We've decided to give things another try,' Nobby said haughtily.

'Nobby, remember the Distressed Pudding? The Slumpie?'

'A woman isn't always about her cooking.'

Fred looked confused. 'Well, I suppose the handwriting's useful*", but I think the cooking's pretty high up on the list of Needs.'

'Well, Tawnee's different. I will be the man at home and she'll go out to work.'

'You could do a double act,' Fred muttered.

'Huh?'

'You and Tawnee. A double act. Y'know, you in your traffic costume and her in her work gear.'

'It's uniform.'

'It's two bootlaces and a feather, Nobby.'

'Nothing wrong with a woman who likes to show herself off.' Nobby preened, and stuck out his chest, or what he had of it.

Just to stop the expanding...chest...of Nobby, Fred decided to let it go. 'Alright, Nobby, but tomorrow, yeah?'

The nearly exploding chest deflated, and Fred relaxed. 'Yeah, alright sarge. Still the Drum?'

'Yep. See you, mate.'

Nobby started to walk up the stairs and Fred slumped down onto the stool, and picked up his doughnut. Chewing it thoughtfully, he read over the sheet on top.

'Angua?' he called up the stairs.

An extremely annoyed Captain Angua, with rings around her eyes and a coffee stain on her shirt, appeared.

'What?' she growled.

'Clacks for you.' He waved the sheet of paper at her.

'Who from?' she asked, climbing down the stairs.

'A Guye von Uberwald. Hey, isn't he...?'

Angua had snatched the sheet out of his hands and was scanning it over. 'Oh gods,' she murmured.

'Angua?'

'I've got to see Vetinari,' Angua said distractedly, tucking the sheet of paper into her pocket. 'Tell Carrot... just tell him where I've gone.'

'Angua?'

'And that's Captain to you, Colon.'

As Colon tried to figure that one out Angua ran out of the door.

* * *

*Assuming, of course, that Nobby Nobbs was human. Or a man, for that matter; he had taken to wearing his bonnet again. In fairness to him, he had caught a few criminals in the act of trying to flee the scene of the crime, but they had only been fleeing because of the image of Nobby as a woman.

**For over thirty years Fred Colon had communicated to Mrs Colon through letters. They had two children, an act, apparently, of extremely persuasive handwriting.

* * *

'A diplomatic visit?' Angua yelled.

Vetinari regarded her calmly over folded hands. 'Captain Angua, you must understand that your family controls much of Uberwald. It is in the city's best interest to form an alliance with them.'

'You don't form alliances with my parents.'

'Maybe you don't, captain,' Vetinari answered, holding up a hand to her protests. 'But as you know the Undertaking requires many resources, many of which we can source from Uberwald.'

'You won't source them from my father. Or rather, you won't get them off my mother. They don't control any of the mines or anything like that.'

'Nevertheless, they control the people that control the mines.'

'No, they rule over them by terror,' Angua stated accurately.

'And terror gets you what you want. No, don't protest, captain, but when catching a criminal do you show understanding or force?'

'The Watch is different to politics.'

'You'd be surprised at how similar they are. Anyway, hopefully we won't have to use force to get what we want, only a friendly alliance and very small terms and conditions.'

'So you're inviting them here? You're inviting a family of werewolves here?'

'Not so much a family, captain, as two people. I have not invited any of your relatives.'

'So they don't get in the way?'

'Precisely, captain. And another two will not make a massive impact on our current werewolf population, growing as it is.'

'There's a great concentration of humans,' Angua said bitterly.

Vetinari kept a straight face. 'Indeed, captain. And I need some advice on how to accommodate our guests.'

Angua thought for a moment. 'You're going to invite them at full moon, she said slowly, 'so that they'll be distracted.'

'Quite so.'

'So they'll need rooms with low door handles, windows that you can open from the inside and the outside and the Shambling Gate open at all times.'

'Any dietary requirements?'

Angua glared at him. 'Just make sure to tell them that all citizens of Ankh-Morpork are out of bounds.'

'It means that much to you?'

'Of course it does,' Angua said angrily. 'I know most of them by name, I've worked with the vast majority of them. How would my parents know not to kill someone I know?'

'I'm surprised that the city means so much to you,' Vetinari stated dryly. He received another look from Angua, but seemed unperturbed. 'Captain von Uberwald, you must understand the game of politics. Like chess, sometimes pawns need to be sacrificed to reach the king.'

'But people aren't pawns in some great game, they're people.'

'Your morality astounds me, captain, but nevertheless the good of the city is the priority. And I am slightly offended that you think I would sacrifice any of the citizens of Ankh-Morpork.'

'You wouldn't?' Angua asked sceptically.

'Certainly not. I'd send them to Pseudopolis.'

Angua smiled briefly, and Vetinari noticed how her hand rested on her stomach. He didn't mention it, though.

'Captain Angua, if you don't want to see your parents I completely understand, but I cannot prevent them from seeing you.'

'No one could. But thanks for the attempt.'

'I hope that they'll be arriving within the week.'

Angua looked at the tiny watch Carrot had bought for her, and noticed the red hand was nearly at full moon. She didn't need to look though, she could sense it. It was like the air was electrically charged. 'Fine,' she sighed.

'Oh, and Angua?'

'Yes?'

'Could you possibly get an invite for me to Vimes' funeral?'

Angua stood stock still, halfway through turning around. 'I presumed that you'd have one.'

'Not to the private ceremony.'

Angua faltered over her words. 'Well...it's watchmen only, sir. Kind of tradition.'

'You could argue that I am a variety of watchman.'

'I'll see what I can do, sir, but you could just turn up. I mean, I've not got a formal invite, nor has anyone else, we just know we're there.'

'Quite so, quite so.'

Angua watched him for a moment. 'Is that all, sir?'

'Oh, yes, captain. You may go.'

Angua had nearly gotten to the door when she heard Vetinari speak again. 'Angua?'

'Yes?'

'You're looking well.'

Angua frowned, then realised what he was stating. 'Alright, sir,' she answered, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing her unnerved.

'You may go.'

Angua rushed out of the door and slammed it behind her.


	8. Chapter 8

The funeral of Samuel Vimes was taking place.

Correction: the funeral of Mister Vimes was taking place. The funeral of His Grace, Sir Samuel Vimes, Duke of Ankh would happen the week afterwards.

But this was the real one.

It was only coppers, of course, and Lady Sybil who had now been accepted as an honorary copper and was wearing a specially fitted breastplate.

Sam Vimes watched from above.

'Do they know yet?' he asked.

ABOUT WHAT?

'About the sons. About the boys.'

NO, NOT YET, Death replied sombrely. He had dressed for the occasion in a dark suit with a dickie bow.

Vimes stared at his funeral down below, and sighed. 'Only coppers at a copper's funeral.'

ISN'T THAT THE WAY YOU WANTED IT?

'I guess so,' Vimes murmured. 'I just hoped that I had made an impact on more people.

Death was silent for a moment. LOOK DOWN, he finally said.

Vimes did, and spotted the heads. The increasing number of heads

'Can I go down?'

WHAT, TO STAND ON MORTAL GROUND? Death shrugged. SURE.

'Will they be able to see me?'

NO.

'Well, that might avoid confusion.'

YES. I WOULD GUESS SO.

Vimes stepped... down.

For the first time in a fortnight he was walking among the living, and found that he had missed it. He couldn't feel the grass and paving stones, but imagined them in his head as he walked over to Sybil and Young Sam.

'Hello, son,' he murmured. Young Sam stayed staring ahead, and Vimes sighed. He turned from his stocky, twelve year old son, tanned from his research in Klatch, and looked at his wife.

She hadn't changed, but then she had. She had grown slightly thinner, he guessed because of worry, and there were a few more lines around her eyes, but the air of Sybil-ness hadn't gone. She was still the same commanding presence, she could still rule over people, but then she could still be caring and happy and good, despite what he had put her through.

For a moment, Sam felt responsible for his own death. But then he looked at Sybil, and Young Sam, and thought now they might be better without him.

He watched Carrot, with Angua standing hesitantly behind him, walk over to Sybil and put a hand on her shoulder, but Sybil kept staring at Angua, who blushed.

He watched Fred Colon and Nobby standing dejectedly over the coffin - his coffin - and was surprised that Nobby wasn't nicking the flowers to flog later. For a moment, he felt honoured.

Then he turned and watched the hundreds of people crowd through the gates of the Small Gods cemetery.

* * *

Sybil stood, gawping, at the crowd of people walking towards the coffin, all completely silent.

As if it was rehearsed, they spread out until they could all see the coffin, and bowed their heads to it.

Tears pricked into Sybil's eyes and she grasped Young Sam's hand. He was staring wondrously at all of the people, those people he remembered as a child from coming over go the house and making the floor dirty, but Sybil had always told him they were good people inside. It turned out that they were better than either of them had expected

* * *

Nobby was still staring at the coffin, trying to work out the truth, when Fred nudged him.

'Nobby.'

Nobby reluctantly turned away. 'Huh?'

'Look at all the people, Nobby.'

Nobby turned around fully and looked at the crowd, all looking at the coffin respectfully. He awkwardly stepped aside to join Fred.

'Why are they 'ere, Fred?'

'Shh, Nobby.'

So, copying everyone else, Nobby stood with his head bowed, still trying to figure out the truth.

* * *

Angua watched Carrot walk to stand next to the coffin. He cleared his throat, but it was silent anyway.

'Thank you,' he said quietly. 'Thank you for coming.'

Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler stepped forward. 'Least we could do, captain.' The rest of the crowd murmured assent. 'But a couple of us would like to make speeches.'

Carrot looked taken aback by the support. 'Of course, Mr Dibbler.'

'Shall I start?' Dibbler turned to look at the crowd, who nodded in unison. He walked to stand next to Carrot, unperturbed by the red haired figure who dwarfed him.

'I'd just like to say that Mister Vimes was a decent guy, and I know that's the best respect I could give 'im. He never took a bribe, he never tried to swindle or steal or get stuff off of us, like a few other coppers,' here he glared at Nobby and Colon, 'are happy to do. All in all, he was a good guy, I've known 'im since I was a lad and so was 'ee, and I'm proud to 'ave known him.'

The rest of the crowd was nodding, and Angua found herself nodding with them. A decent guy. That's all he wanted to be.

Mrs Palm was walking up to Carrot. 'Mornin', captain,' she said to him.

'Good morning, Mrs Palm.'

Mrs Palm turned round to the audience. 'Now, I know a great many of you,' the audience tittered, 'but I can honestly say that I had the pleasure of never knowing Sam Vimes, well, not in that sense. He was a decent guy, and he loved his wife and family, and he loved this town. He did good by us, and we shouldn't forget him. You've all seen him out on the beat, or helping us with the Patrician, and we can all honestly say that although he had all the power in the world, he never took advantage of it, and remember he could have.'

'Thank you, Mrs Palm,' Carrot interrupted, fearing some sort of anti-authoritarian rant. Rosie Palm glared at him for one second, then walked off, cowed.

Foul Ole Ron, preceded by Gaspode who had a piece of string tied around his neck, walked up to Carrot. Carrot didn't flinch away from the smell, which was an act of resilience that Angua had never seen the like of before. After a few minutes in the presence of Foul Ole Ron your brain started to melt*.

'Bugrit,' Foul Ole Ron muttered. Then a different voice, one which was still Ron to normal hearing, started speaking articulately and Angua looked down at Gaspode, who glared at her.

'What we... I would like to say is that Mister Vimes did good by us, and that the rest of the crew won't forget him, or his advice of what to do with some of the bits in Dibbler's sausages,' Throat Dibbler looked pleased for all the wrong reasons, until Gaspode continued, 'which was to spit all of it out. He was a decent guy who trusted us, and we came here to say thanks.'

Ron** decided to make his own contribution here. 'I told 'em, I told 'em, two little boys, two big boys...'

'Thank you, Ron,' Carrot interjected, but Ron was having none of it.

'I told 'em, two big boys, bigger than ma, ick and smell and run, run, run. Bugrit, I told 'em.'

'Ron, let's let someone else speak now,' Carrot said loudly.

'Two little boys, drink, drink, gulp, bugrit, millennium hand and shrimp.'

Carrot gently grasped Ron's arm and pulled him to one side, and Angua started to run over to them.

'Let me, Carrot.' She gestured over to the crowd. 'Go back and speak, or let someone else speak.'

He looked at her oddly for a moment, but evidently decided to leave her to it, and walked back over to the crowd. She watched Chrysoprase the troll lumber up to Carrot, and turned back to Ron and Gaspode.

'You know something,' she told the dog.

Gaspode stopped nonchalantly scratching his ear. 'Me? I don't know a thing, me. I'm just a dog, ain't I?'

'Gaspode, not this again.'

Gaspode turned away, insulted. 'No, I came with your fella all the way to bloody Uberwald and then I don't hear a thing off you. It's been nearly ten years!'

'Gaspode, I've been busy, and so've you. When did you join the Canting Crew, anyway?'

'Busy with him, I bet,' Gaspode muttered, not answering the question.

'Gaspode,' Angua said warningly, and the dog turned towards her. 'What do you know about Vimes's death?'

'All I know is that he went up to that house in Cockbill Street and came out smelling funny.'

'Smelling funny how?'

'Chemically. Acrid, sort of like the Alchemists.'

'And which house was this?'

'Number twenty, I think.'

Angua started to write it down, then noticed the notes that she had made from Nobby's information. 'Was there a woman in the house as well?'

'As well as the two boys? Yeah, but she didn't say much.'

'How do you know?'

Gaspode looked indignant. 'I do look out for you, y'know.'

'Then why didn't you tell me?'

'Didn't know you were looking.'

Angua sighed and put the notebook away. 'I presume there's nothing else?'

'I could go with Nobby up to their house.'

'You know Nobby's been up there?'

'Watching out for you, darling.'

Angua shook her head. 'No, Gaspode, not darling. Never darling.'

'Bet he calls you that,' Gaspode leered. 'And other things.'

'No, he doesn't actually. And I'd be pleased if you didn't either.'

'Fair enough. Hey, why didn't you tell me you got knocked up?'

'Thank you, Gaspode, for that.' Angua paused. 'I haven't even told Carrot.'

'And he can't tell? Bloody idiot.'

Angua looked over at Carrot commanding the crowd, and stayed silent.

'Sorry, miss.'

'I'll tell him sometime,' she said defensively.

'Oh I know, I know.'

'No sarcasm please, Gaspode.'

'Fair enough. Looks like it's finishing now.'

People were starting to disperse and Angua stood up, wincing as her knees cracked. 'I'll see you, Gaspode.'

'See ya, Angua. Do you want me to go with Nobby?'

'No, not yet. Just keep an eye out.'

'Will do.' Gaspode turned to Foul Ole Ron. 'C'mon, mate, let's be going.'

'Bugrit.'

'Yeah, yeah, bugrit yourself.' Gaspode started walking away with Foul Ole Ron.

'Millennium hand-'

'And shrimp, yeah, we get it, Ron.'

'Bugrit.'

Gaspode turned round and dramatically sighed at Angua, who smiled, then walked over to Carrot.

'Everything alright?'

'Yeah, just talking to Gaspode. He gets jealous.'

Carrot put an arm around her shoulders, seeming unperturbed by this piece of knowledge. 'Well, that went well.'

'Plenty of people.'

'I barely had to speak at all. Though I'll have to next week.'

'Don't worry about it. Just keep it short.'

Carrot looked worried. 'I just don't want to embarrass his name.'

'You won't. How could you? Do you know anything that you could embarrass him with?'

Carrot shrugged. 'I just don't want to make a mess of it.'

Angua stopped and turned him around to face her. 'Listen, Carrot, Vetinari wouldn't let you do the speech if he thought you would screw up, would he?'

'I guess not.'

She kissed him on the cheek. 'So don't worry about it.'

Carrot smiled wanly. 'And you'll be there.'

'Yep, I'll be there. Right where you can see me.'

'Good.' Carrot took her hand and they started walking again. 'What's happening now?'

'Life as normal, I guess. I don't think there's any sort of celebration.'

* * *

*Unless you were a troll, but a selection of affordable narcotics such as Slab, Slice and Sludge could provide the same effect.

**That is to say, the actual Ron.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hi guys, thanks for reading/reviewing etc. and please continue - I'm sleep deprived because of you. And yes, I am guilt trapping you :)**

**Review with any suggestions for characters/plot/anything :) I promise I'll listen!**

* * *

As it turned out, Angua was wrong.

They walked into the Temple of Small Gods and stared at all the tables, and all the people. Colon walked up to them, his mouth stuffed with food. 'Good, eh?'

'Where's all this come from?'

'All donated. Everyone's given something.'

'Did you know about this, Colon?' Carrot said solemnly.

'Nope, but I'm gonna enjoy it. Hey, there's Kipper.'

'What, the fish?'

'No, the sergeant.' Colon waved at Sergeant Haddock, who miserably waved back. 'Oi, Kipper,' Colon shouted across the room. 'Not enough avec?'

Kipper shook his head sadly and stared at the good, homemade Ankh-Morporkian food without a single trace of Avec.'

'Who's in Quirm at the moment*?' Angua asked Carrot.

*The Watch had started an exchange with the Quirm Gendarmie, where a Morporkian copper went over in exchange for a Quirmian chef, who used a little too much Avec for the Watch's taste, though they had to admit that getting rid of the most annoying person in the Watch could only be a good thing.

'Ping, I think. Vimes sent him there to get him out of the way.'

'Makes sense. I thought I hadn't heard any of his stupid comments recently.'

'Hmm.' Carrot was staring over at someone who looked very much like a Seamstress. 'Sorry, Angua, but I've just got to talk to Reet.'

'Alright.' Angua watched him go over to the seamstress and ask her something, which she vehemently shook her head to. Angua regarded them suspiciously until Reet looked over and caught her eye, when she started staring at them.

'Captain?'

Angua turned round and looked at Vetinari. 'Hello, sir.'

Vetinari gestured around him. 'A lovely funeral, if you'll pardon the oxymoron. Just what he would have wanted.'

'Yes, sir,' Angua said with a blank face.

Vetinari sighed. 'Captain, believe it or not, I did know Vimes well. And I will be sad to see him gone.'

Angua looked at Vetinari's blank face suspiciously, but if she looked really hard she could see a twinge of sadness behind the steely blue eyes.

'I'm sure that he'll be pleased to know that,' she said ever so acidly. Then she mellowed her tone, seeing Vetinari's concern. 'But thank you, sir.'

Vetinari glanced around the room. 'Have you seen Cut-My-Own-Throat Dibbler?'

'Me. His grammar's not that good.'

'Pardon, captain?'

'Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler.'

'I see. Have you seen him?' Vetinari said testily.

Angua glanced round, pausing for a fraction of a second to glare back at Reet. She pointed to a corner. 'There, sir.'

'Ah, I see. He's selling sausages here?'

'I think the more astonishing thing, sir, is that people are buying them.'

'Indeed. Selling the sizzle.'

'Thank gods that Dibbler's got a sizzle to sell, considering his sausages.'

'Tell me, Captain, have you ever had one of his sausages.'

'I've been deprived of the...pleasure, sir. Carrot educated me about most of Ankh-Morpork on my first day.'

'How long did that take him?'

'He can walk very quickly, sir.'

'I see, I see,' Vetinari said distantly. 'Now, captain, if you'll excuse me, I must attend to urgent matters at the Palace.'

Angua glanced round to see a man in a tatty black suit, the same shade as Vetinari's, walk out of the door trying his best to look nonchalant.

'Poor Piotr,' Vetinari murmured. 'We've invited him down from Uberwald due to the impending diplomatic visit, but it seems that he hasn't quite got a grasp on discretion.'

'My parents don't exactly go for subtlety, sir.'

Vetinari turned round and gave her a winning smile. 'Who mentioned your parents, captain?'

Angua decided not to respond to that one.

'Well, captain, I hope to see you next week.'

'Whatever for, sir?' Angua asked silkily.

'The welcome evening for your parents.'

Her response was automatic. 'Can I bring Carrot?'

'Of course you may, captain. I'm sure that your family will have fond memories of him.'

'Oh, yes. Only fond ones.'

'Indeed. I must be going, captain. Give my regards to Commander Carrot.'

'Of course, sir.'

Vetinari walked out of the room at a measured pace, and nobody noticed he was there; he just blended in. It was a great skill for a leader, Angua supposed, but an even better one for an assassin.

She turned round again to see Carrot standing there, looking sheepish.

'How's Reet,' she asked tetchily.

'She's fine, fine. Said Nobby was asking her some questions the other day.'

Angua successfully put a stop to her graphic imagination, which was considering exactly _what_ Nobby would ask a seamstress.

Carrot continued. 'She said that he was asking about Mister Vimes's family.'

'He probably went to tell them that he had died,' Angua said quickly.

Carrot still looked worried. 'It just seems a bit weird to me, Nobby doing it. Surely they would have seen it in the paper.'

'Carrot, we would do it for any other copper.'

'But his family's Sybil and Young Sam.'

Angua sighed. 'He had parents, Carrot, maybe a sibling, nieces, nephews. He grew up in the Shades, right?'

'Cockbill Street, yeah.'

'Well, someone should have gone to personally tell them about it. We'd do it for anybody else. And Nobby's gotten better at the whole grief business, there's been no more of the "bet you a dollar you're the widow Jackson", and he would show the Vimes's more respect.'

'Except for last week,' Carrot said accurately.

'Well, he'd never liked Corporal Silver.'

'I know that no one did, but that didn't mean that Nobby should have won a dollar off his death.'

'All I'm saying, Carrot, is that Nobby wouldn't have dared insult a member of Vimes's family. There are such things as ghosts, after all.'

* * *

'Hah. Poor Eleanor.'

HOW DO YOU MEAN, Death asked, perplexed.

'Having to endure a visit from Nobby.'

AH, I SEE. YOU KNOW, HIS IS THE ONLY LIFETIMER THAT I HAVE THAT HAS RUSTED*.

Vimes looked questioningly at Death. 'Do your lifetimers specify gender?'

YES.

'What's Nobby's?'

Death brought out a rusted hourglass and shook it. IT APPEARS TO BE A MIXTURE. ALTHOUGH HIS FEMALE SIDE HAS DIMINISHED RECENTLY.

'Well, that can only be a good thing.' Vimes grimaced. 'The worst image I can remember, him in a dress.'

I WOULD HAVE THOUGHT HIM IN THE HAREM PANTS WOULD BE WORSE, Death commented wickedly.

Vimes glared at him. 'You ever heard of the human tactic of blocking memories out?'

I HAVE ENCOUNTERED IT.

'But I doubt that you understand the importance of it in certain situations.'

YOU WOULD BE SURPRISED, Death said dryly.

'Oh yeah? Many memories that you want to block out?'

MANY, YES. Death sighed. BUT SADLY I HAVE NOT BEEN GRANTED THAT PARTICULAR HUMAN FEATURE.

'Shame,' Vimes said bitterly. 'Then you would understand the importance of some memories being gone.'

OH, I KNOW THE VALUE OF IT, Death replied. I'VE JUST NEVER BEEN ABLE TO MASTER IT. IT WOULD BE USEFUL.

A thought shot to Vimes's corporeal mind. 'How much paperwork is there when you're Death?'

Death sighed dramatically. PLEASE DO NOT MENTION THE PAPERWORK. NOTHING IS WORSE THAN PAPERWORK. He shuddered.

'You and me both, mate.'

Death and Vimes continued looking down and examining the world.

* * *

*This was technically a lie. The guard Nobbski in the Uberwaldian town of Bonk and the soldier Knobhi in Al-Khali in Klatch both had rusted lifetimers, due to morphic resonance playing havoc across the Disk. However, Nobby one the prize for managing to corrode the glass of his.


	10. Chapter 10

Nobby walked hesitantly down Cockbill Street, and it wasn't just because of avoiding the dog shit.

The last time he had come to Mrs Vimes's house had _not_ gone well.

She had welcomed him in and led him through to the front room where two lanky teenage boys were sitting on chairs, glaring at him. He smiled sheepishly.

'Any chance of a cuppa, Mrs Vimes?'

'It's Mrs Tabram, actually, corporal. Eleanor Tabram. But I'll get you one.'

She bustled out of the room, leaving Nobby alone with the two boys.

'Y'alright, lads?'

They stared stonily back at him. 'You a copper?' one asked viciously.

'Yeah.' For a minute Nobby regretted his career choice.

'What's it like?' the other enquired.

'It's a decent job,' Nobby replied cautiously. 'Decent pay.'

'How much?'

'Thirty dollars a month for a corporal. Recruits get twenty.'

The boy's eyes widened. 'Cor blimey, Mister.'

'Yeah,' the other boy said harshly. 'Bet you're rollin' in it.'

Nobby looked closer at this kid. He bore all of the trademarks of a right bastard - the defiant glare, the unwashed hair, the hand that strayed slightly to his pocket _just_ in case. Nobby remembered kids like that when he was growing up, gods knew what they were doing now. Still the same old thing, he supposed, or they were in the army. Or they were politicians.

'You'd be surprised, kid.'

The boy wrinkled his nose. 'What's it like then, working for nobs.'

'We work for the common public,' Nobby replied pretentiously, sticking out his chest.

'Yeah, right. The common public bein' whoever the nobs say.'

'You met Sam Vimes, didn't you, kid?'

The kid nodded brusquely.

'He seem like a nob to you?'

'Doesn't have to seem like a nob,' the boy retorted. 'Just 'as to be assokiated with them.'

'I think you mean associated,' Nobby said patronisingly, enjoying his moment.

'And you say you ain't a nob,' the kid said dismissively.

Mrs Tabram entered with a battered tray of cups. 'Sorry, corporal, I've given you the one that's least battered.'

'Doesn't matter to me, miss, my mug cut my lip the other day. Still ain't getting a new one though.' He caught her face falling and quickly took it back. 'But thank you all the same.'

'Oh, I am sorry, corporal, I didn't introduce you to the lads. This here,' she said, pointing at the younger one, the nicer one, 'this is Charlie.' The kid smiled. 'And this 'ere's Matt. He's older.'

Nobby nodded at the two boys. 'Nobby Nobbs.'

'Cor, that's your real name? I thought it's just a nickname?'

'It's me name now,' Nobby retorted. Matt glared at him.

'Now, lads, the corporal 'ere's gonna ask you some questions.'

Immediately Charlie looked worried. 'What about?'

'Why you looking worried, Charl?' Matt asked in sickly sweet tones. 'Got somethin' to hide from Mister Copper.'

Charlie looked down. 'No.'

Their mother watched them warily. 'Now boys, I'm sure you're not in trouble.'

'Course not, Mrs Tabram. Just a coupla questions.'

'About what?'

'About Mister Vimes's death.'

Both boys had prepared for this. Their faces were like stone. Nobby sighed and thought that paranoia really had increased.

Then he looked at Mrs Tabram, who was sitting there shaking. 'Oh, don't worry, miss. Nothin' suspicious.'

He saw her relax. 'What do you want to know, corporal?'

'When did you last see him before he died?'

'Well we ain't seen him after he died, did we?' Matt retorted.

Nobby was flummoxed. Angua was so much better at this; you really didn't want to cross a werewolf on a bad hair day.

'I 'ope not,' he replied slowly. 'But we might come to that question later.

He had found nothing from the interview, unless you call a seriously worried Eleanor Tabram something to be concerned about. Angua had thought it was.

'So she could have been covering up for the lads?' she asked.

'No, miss, they looked innocent.'

'I bet they did. Carcer looked innocent, remember, and he ended up strung up in Sator Square.'

Nobby tried not to remember that.

'Shall I come with you next time?'

'Listen, Angua, I think I can-'

'I'm coming with you next time,' she replied testily, and Nobby stepped back.

'Fine,' he muttered.

So Angua was somewhere now, scouting ahead to see what she could find. Knowing her, a dead body, and Nobby had had enough of those for one month. Seeing your boss as a human for the first time can be disconcerting.

He caught sight of a golden blur and smiled, before knocking on the door. A rather flustered Mrs Tabram came to meet him.

'Oh, corporal, sorry. I've just been doin' the washin'.'

'That's alright, miss, I'll just wait a minute.'

She looked at him for a moment, clearly worried, but went inside to finish off. 'Come in,' she called behind her. 'Sit down.'

He shut the door and hoped to hell that Angua found something. He didn't like interrogating innocent women.

* * *

Innocent, my ass, Angua thought as she sniffed around the street. Worry poured off the woman.

She could smell something...odd. Not the chemical smell of the poison, but an undercurrent of sweat and worry. It hadn't been on Vimes, though.

She followed the trail down a dank alleyway, pausing for a moment when she heard Nobby's voice, and remembered that the house backed onto an alleyway. She sat down and listened, straining her ears for the voices.

'Where are the lads today, Mrs Tabram?'

The woman, the worried one, muttered something that Angua couldn't decipher.

'Oh, that's alright, I'll just talk to you.'

'Why are you here, corporal?'

Nobby paused. 'Cos I don't think Mister Vimes would give up so easy.'

'You think he was killed?'

'I don't know yet.'

Angua held her breath and inwardly screamed at Nobby. You never, ever told anyone you were interrogating what you were interrogating them about. That was lesson ten in Vimes's book.

She caught scent of the worried smell again, and followed it down the alleyway. It was weak, maybe two days old, and brushed about from the footsteps of other people, but she followed the light blue track through the dark.

She banged her head on the dead end, and the part of her that was always Angua, always human, thought You stupid wolf.

She changed into human, pulling the dress she was carrying on and taking a swig of mouthwash. She could just about sense the trail in human form, and walked down another alleyway that branched off, one that she had missed. The smell was fainter here, just a dim blue smudge, but she followed it anyway.

She came out into a dingy courtyard and saw two boys fighting up against the wall. She ducked back into the alley, but could still here the voices. The blue was stronger now, mixed in with a vicious orange.

She heard the hollow thumps stop for a moment. 'You don't tell Mister Copper anything, do you, Charl?'

Charl. Charlie. The nice son, Nobby said.

The boy, Charlie whimpered. 'Do you?' the other boy said viciously.

'No, Matt,' Charlie whimpered.

The dull thumps started again. 'Then why did you?' the other boy growled.

'Didn't!' Charlie managed to gasp.

'Don't lie to me!' There was a last loud thump that echoed around the courtyard, and Angua heard loud footsteps coming towards the alleyway. She shrank into the wall and watched the boy storm past. He didn't even notice her.

She peered round the corner to see Charlie slumped on the floor, gasping. She walked quickly over to him.

'Come on,' she urged, trying to lift him into a sitting position.

'Who are you?' he managed to gasp.

'A copper,' she answered brusquely.

He frowned, wincing at the cut on his forehead. 'But you're wearing a dress. And women can't be in the Watch.'

'Who says? And I'm undercover.' She managed to pull him up, and dabbed at his forehead with a torn bit of her dress. 'Where do you live?' she asked, as if she didn't know.

'Just round the corner.'

'Right.' She heaved him up, wincing at the pain in her stomach. 'Think you can make it?'

'Not the first time this has 'appened, miss.'

'I'll take that as a yes. Come on.' She half dragged, half guided him down the alleyway.

She pulled him up to the doorway and knocked on it. Nobby answered it with a look of relief.

'Thank gods, Angua. You've no idea 'ow 'ard it is to interrogate her. She just looks sad at you.' His eyes widened as he caught sight of Charlie slumped in her arms. 'Angua...' he whined.

'He's not dead, Nobby, so you can stop whining.' The smell of blood was starting to get to her.

'What did you do, Angua?'

'I didn't do a godsdamned thing, Nobby. It was the other lad.'

'Matt?'

'Think so.' She turned round, away from the stench of blood. 'Look, Nobby, can you just take him inside? I just need to...need to...'

He nodded as if he understood. 'Mrs Tabram?' he called.

'Nobby!'

'Oh, right, miss.' He tried to take him out of her arms, but ended up dropping him. She let the boy go, leaving him and Nobby on the doorstep, rushing away.

She ran for a couple of minutes until the air was clean and she could breathe again, but her clothes were still lightly spattered. She tore them off and changed to wolf, and immediately the bitter orange hit her.

She grinned, and started to follow the trail.


	11. Chapter 11

Angua followed the bitter orange trail through the Shades, trying to block the growing smell of poison.

She was trotting quickly, and soon caught up with Matt, but stayed about ten feet back as she followed him. He was muttering to himself, indistinguishable words that got lost in the crowds of the Shades, and no one seemed to notice the blood spattered on his shirt. It wasn't uncommon here to see someone with blood on their hands. It had always been hard to ask people from the Shades if they had seen someone acting strangely, or someone covered with blood. It was just normal to them.

She saw the boy dart down an alleyway and into a poky shop. The filthy sign which creaked above the door* said 'Joseph Long, Pets, Est**'.

Angua knew the shop. Half of their flea powder was made of chalk. Exactly the same type of chalk she had found under the bed in Vimes's room.

Matt had pulled the owner over the counter by his collar and was gesturing towards the back of the shop, where Angua could just see the faint outline of a door. The man's face was just starting to turn purple when Matt threw him back and his head hit the wall. He winced, but recovered quickly enough to run over and open the door. Matt nodded brusquely, and followed him through it.

If Angua knew one thing about the Shades, it was that _everything_ had a back door.

She crept round to the back of the alley and sniffed around for a while, finding the right back door. It always avoided confusion.

In this case, she wouldn't have been able to avoid the door. The stench of poison poured out of the door at the far end of the alleyway. Tendrils of red and purple swarmed out of the gaps, and she tried to breathe shallowly. Coughing, she ran round the corner, changed, and doubled up, wheezing.

She was coughing so hard that she didn't notice the woman standing next to her. Worry poured off her and collected in a pool around her feet.

Angua nearly laughed at the irony, but was coughing too much.

'Mrs Tabram,' she wheezed.

'Eh, how do you know me name?'

Angua tried to think quickly, but the smell was still clouding her mind. 'I've heard your name around.'

Mrs Tabram eyed her suspiciously. 'You're naked, you realise.'

The smoke in her mind was clearing a bit. 'Just had to run from my landlord. Wants the rent, and I don't have it.'

'And you were naked?'

Angua made herself blush. 'Well, you know...'

'Right, right. You probably want to get back to _him_.'

'Yes. Yes.' Angua paused before running off. 'Thanks.'

'No problem. Give 'im my best wishes.'

Angua sighed. Sometimes lies could be so problematic. 'See you.'

Mrs Tabram walked back down the alleyway, and Angua breathed.

* * *

*They always do this, no matter how much oil you put on. It's all part of Creating Suspense.

**Shops like this never said exactly when they were established. It would be easier for A.E. Pessimal and his...friends... to determine how many years worth of tax they hadn't paid.

* * *

'Sybil?' Carrot called.

Sybil burrowed herself further under the blankets.

'Sybil?'

She heard the door open, and Carrot sigh. 'Angua,' he called.

Another pair of footsteps, and Sybil shrank down into the covers. 'Leave this to me,' she heard Angua say. 'Oh, and is Nobby back?'

'I thought you were with him.'

'He had to go somewhere.'

'Haven't seen him. I'll call if he gets back.'

'Thanks.'

Carrot's footsteps could be heard walking away, and Angua came closer to the bed. She sounded a little out of breath, and more than a little frustrated.

Sybil poked her head out of the top of the bed like a small child. She glanced at Angua, who looked fairly relaxed, and emerged slowly.

Angua raised her eyebrows. 'Really, Sybil?'

'There's nothing to do.'

'There's plenty to do. You were never bored when-' Angua hesitated.

'Exactly. When.'

'Sybil, I'm sorry.' Angua perched on the side of the bed. 'But you've got to snap out of this.'

'You'll be a great parent, you know, someday,' Sybil said icily. 'Buck up, just get on with it, all of that is really morale building. Just what a child needs.'

Angua froze, and Sybil remembered. 'Oh gods. Angua...'

Sybil watched Angua regain control of herself, and saw her swallow a couple of times. Quietly, she spoke. 'I'm going to pretend that was the grief speaking, because I know you didn't mean that.'

Sybil nodded.

'And now we're going to forget that you _ever_ said that, or that you ever mentioned it.'

Another nod. Sybil resisted the urge to pull her collar up.

'Right then,' Angua said, fully composed. 'You're coming out with me on patrol. It'll get you out of here.'

Sybil looked apprehensively around the room, as if looking for an escape. 'But I don't know how to do it.'

'Everyone's got to start somewhere. And you can just follow me.'

Sybil was stunned. Angua had never really discussed her police work, not like Carrot and Sam used to do. But she could see how being a copper never left you.

'You're good at this, aren't you,' Sybil said.

Angua looked at her steadily. 'Good at what? At policing? Well, I should hope so, I've been doing it for long enough.'

Sybil nodded. 'I've never really thought of you as a copper. You've just been Angua.'

'And what's Angua?'

'Just...you. Just normal.'

'And not a werewolf?' Angua asked drily. 'Relax, Sybil, it's not as if I haven't heard it before.'

Sybil surprised herself by being able to speak. 'No, not a werewolf.'

Angua raised her eyebrows. 'Well, you must be the only one.'

'Sam never saw you as a werewolf. Coppers don't have species.'

'Tell that to the old Sam Vimes. He wasn't so accepting then.'

'Do you blame him?'

Angua shrugged. 'What for? For turning me out as a decent copper, even when he didn't want to? No, I don't blame him for anything.'

'He'll be glad to hear you say that.'

Angua glanced at her, choosing not to comment on the tense used. 'I'm sure he would be.' She turned round and picked her helmet off the chair beside her. 'And now we're going on patrol. I'm in Dolly Sisters, Colon seems to like putting me there. Can't think why.'

'But you've only just got back.'

'That was my free time for the day.'

'Where were you?'

Angua paused for a moment. 'Just around. Nowhere in particular.'

Sybil glared at her, but Angua pretended not to notice. 'Shall we be off, then?' she asked.

'Fine.'

'We'll get you something from downstairs to put on. You can't patrol in a tweed skirt.'

'I do the dragons in it.'

'You ever tried running after a thief in a skirt? Doesn't work, trust me.'

'Fine,' Sybil said sulkily.

'And stop moping. You won't catch anyone with that attitude.'

'Sorry.'

'Right, that's better.' Angua held the door open for her. 'Shall we go?'


	12. Chapter 12

**WARNING: there may be a little bit of Carrot/Angua fluff near the end of this chapter, I hope I've done it okay :S**

**Thanks for reading, please review :)**

Sybil Vimes had never worn a breastplate before. She didn't like it.

'Won't people notice who I am?'

Angua glanced at her. 'To most people now you're just a woman in uniform. No one is ever recognised; they see the helmet, they see the breastplate, they see the copper. Simple as.'

'What about Carrot?'

'Carrot's... different. Everyone knows Carrot. The rest of us tend to be a little more discrete.'

'Why?'

Angua stopped walking and looked at her coldly. 'You may have noticed that not many of us here in the Watch are... normal. Me, I'm a werewolf. Cheery, a female dwarf. Detritus, Igor, Sally,' she ticked them off on her fingers, 'we get more dwarfs and trolls in our recruits than humans. Most of us try to keep out of the limelight.'

'What about Sam?'

Angua sighed. 'The most common opinion in the Watch was that he needed a stiff double to be sober. He looked at the world through the eyes of someone who's so sober that they can see every little thing that's wrong, and it tortures them.'

'And how about the rest of you? Do you need a drink to see the world comfortably?' Sybil spat.

'Usually,' Angua answered calmly. 'It does provide some sort of relief. But you've only been a copper for ten minutes, and I've been one for ten years. Things are different.'

As they proceeded (something Sybil couldn't get the hang of) down Broadway, Sybil watched Angua closely. She was in her element here, unchallenged. She belonged here.

'Angua?'

'Yes?'

'When did you first come here?'

'What, to Ankh-Morpork?' Angua sighed. 'About ten, eleven years ago. I had just turned seventeen.'

'You acted older than seventeen.'

'I had seen more than any seventeen year old should have to. By the time I was eleven I was having to watch humans being ripped apart. Sort of a rite of passage.'

'You lost your sister, didn't you?'

Angua's voice caught. 'Yes. Elsa. I was sixteen.'

'So you left because of that?'

Angua breathed in deeply. 'Look, Sybil, I'd rather not discuss it. It's not you, it's just that I'd rather forget about it.'

'Hard to, with your parents coming in a couple of days time.'

'I suppose so. Though it doesn't mean I'll have to spend much time with them.'

'You'll still have to see them, though,' Sybil said accurately.

Angua nodded, and turned onto Mormius Street. 'It'll be fine,' she said, half to herself.

Sybil wisely decided not to answer that.

* * *

'Curry, Carrot?' Nobby called up the stairs. There was no reply.

Sighing, Nobby walked up the stairs. If he was too much longer Colon would have eaten all the poppadoms.

He knocked on the door to Carrot's office, and, when there was no answer, opened it. Carrot was lying on his desk, asleep.

'Commander?' Nobby whispered. 'Carrot?'

He walked closer, unused to the feeling of floor under his soles. Before it was just layers and layers of paper.

'Carrot?' he asked louder. He shook him.

The noise Carrot made was a cross between a snort and a groan, which is very hard to put into letters. 'What is it, corporal?' he asked, his face still stuck to the paperwork on the desk.

'Curry, commander?'

Carrot raised his head, the creases of the paper making red patterns on his cheeks. 'What sort?' he mumbled.

'Vindaloo.'

'Might wake me up a little.' Carrot pulled a piece of paper off his cheek and placed it carefully on the table. 'What time is it, Nobby?'

''Bout twelve.'

'Morning or evening?'

'Evening. Well, kind of morning now.'

'What day?' Carrot seemed to be getting quite upset.

'Um, August the ninth. Year of the slug, if that helps. Century of the Anchovy.'

'Thanks, Nobby,' Carrot snapped.

'Eh, you alright, sir?'

Carrot shook his head. 'No, not really. When did I last see Angua?'

'You can only answer that, sir.'

'I think it was the day before yesterday, or the day before. Or...' Carrot was muttering to himself now. 'Or was it last week...'

'Sir?'

Carrot seemed to snap out of some sort of trance. 'Is Angua in?'

'Nope. Up at Dolly Sisters.'

'I'll go and find her.' Carrot pulled on his helmet and breastplate, managing to do all the buckles up wrong in his distraction.

'Carrot, you've-'

'Later, Nobby.'

'Where are you going?'

Carrot was out of the door. 'To find Angua,' he called.

'Why?'

Carrot had gone.

Colon came up behind Nobby. 'Where's he gone, then?'

'To find Angua.'

'Ah.' Colon nodded wisely, which made him look like a cross-eyed fish. 'Affairs of the heart, Nobby.'

'Huh, sarge?'

'Just leave him to it. Can't mess with the heart.' Colon started to head back inside again. 'Oh, how are you and Tawnee?'

'Oh, we're fine, sarge. But 'er cooking's no better.'

'Shame, shame. Do you want the last naan?'

'Don't mind if I do.'

The door slammed shut in the wind, drowning out the sound of Carrot's running footsteps.

* * *

'Angua? _Angua?_'

Angua turned round at the sound of someone calling her name. 'Carrot?'

Carrot emerged out of the dark, panting. 'Angua?'

'I'm here, Carrot.'

He walked towards her, completely ignoring Sybil, and she could see that he was crying. 'Carrot?'

He carried on walking until he reached her, then he wrapped his arms around her, sobbing.

'Carrot?'

She could just make out his mumblings. 'I'm sorry,' he repeated over and over again.

His tears were starting to soak through the fabric of her tunic. She turned to face Sybil, who was staring at them, bemused. 'Sybil, can you make your own way back? I'll take Carrot home with me.'

'Home where?'

'Mrs Cake's. She knows him.'

Sybil nodded, glanced worriedly at Carrot, then headed off. Carrot was still mumbling.

'Carrot, what are you sorry for?'

He raised his head and looked straight into her eyes, and she could see nothing but sadness in his. It made her want to cry.

Finally, he answered. 'For leaving you. For working too hard, for not...' He gulped, '...for not seeing you.'

'Carrot, you're busy. I understand.'

He stroked her hair a couple of times, then let his hand fall. 'I just feel like I've lost you.'

'Carrot, you're not going to lose me.'

'But how do I know?'

Her heart was bleeding as she watched him cry, but she couldn't answer. 'Carrot, you're coming to Mrs Cake's with me for the night. Alright?'

He nodded, and put an arm around her shoulders as they started walking. They were silent as they walked through the street, and as she unlocked the door to Mrs Cake's. She led him up to her bedroom and gently closed the door, watching him as he slumped onto the bed. She walked over to him and held his face in her hands, wiping away the tears with her thumb.

Gently, he kissed her.

'You're not going to lose me,' she told him.

He sighed. 'I know, it's just...I feel I could.'

'You're not going to.'

He looked into her eyes again, and she saw that the trust had returned. 'I know.'

She lay down on the bed and he lay down beside her, his arms wrapped around her. 'Angua? he whispered.

'Yes?'

'I love you.'

She rolled over and kissed him gently. 'I know. And I love you. Don't you ever forget that.'

He smiled, and held her tighter.

After a while, the bed springs went _glink_.


	13. Chapter 13

Gaspode was getting worried.

He had been following Nobby for a couple of weeks now, against Angua's orders, of course, and in the two weeks Nobby had visited the Vimeses five times. He was spending all of his spare time there. And every time he came out he smelt funny.

''Ullo, Gaspode.' Nobby leant down and scratched Gaspode.

'Bark,' Gaspode said grumpily. 'Got a biscuit on you?'

Nobby fumbled around in his pocket. 'Have I got a biscuit somewhere?' he mumbled. Gaspode sighed, but leapt up to grasp the biscuit out of his hand. Almost immediately, he spat it out again.

'What's this, Gaspode?' Nobby picked up the biscuit and sniffed it, then put it in his mouth*.

Gaspode barked at him. 'Stupid man,' he told Nobby, who seemed to have forgotten Gaspode could speak.

'Eh? What's wrong, Gaspode.'

Gaspode thought this would probably be a good time to remind Nobby of something. 'You think they killed your commander, mate, and you're eatin' their biscuits.'

'Nothing wrong with a biscuit, mate. Here, try another.' Another biscuit was thrown down, and Gaspode backed away from it, his eyes watering.

'What's up, you feelin' poorly?'

Gaspode sighed. 'Poisoned, mate.'

'Nothin' wrong with them, Gaspode. Just biscuits.'

'Poisoned, you bloody idiot,' Gaspode barked. 'Bloody fool.'

'Why are you barkin' at me, Gaspode?' Nobby said, sounding hurt.

Gaspode sighed dramatically and glared at Nobby, who was already starting to walk away. 'Well,' he muttered, 'he'll find out soon enough.'

His ears pricked up, and he remembered who he was doing this for.

Sighing, he started to walk towards Mrs Cake's.

* * *

*Not a good idea, especially after it had been lying on the streets of the Shades and had been in close proximity to Gaspode, a dog with various ailments only found on sheep, goats and humans. Still, Nobby was a man who had never knowingly washed.

* * *

Angua's room was on the ground floor. Whilst this did mean it was easy to climb into it as a wolf, it also meant anyone could knock on her window.

She heard a barking outside the glass, and rolled away from Carrot, pulling a blanket around her. She walked over to the window and opened it, glaring down at Gaspode.

'What do you want?' she growled.

'It's about Nobby. Can I come in?'

Angua glanced behind her at Carrot, who was still sleeping. 'No.'

'Oh, I see.' Gaspode looked hurt, but carried on anyway. ''ee's bin spending all his time up at the Vimeses.'

'What? Up at Sybil's?'

'No, the other Vimes family. The ones on Cockbill Street.'

'Oh, the Tabrams. He probably just feels sorry for them. Vimes used to help them, after all.'

'Oh, I'm not worried about 'im feelin' sorry for 'em. I'm worried about what they're doing to 'im.'

Angua sighed. 'Look, Gaspode, I don't want to get mixed up with it.'

'What 'appened to you wanting to find out who killed 'im?'

'How do you know anyone killed him? It could have just been natural.'

'Yeah, right,' Gaspode muttered.

'Have you got any proof that it wasn't natural?' Angua asked coldly.

'Yes!'

'What? Because I've really got other things to worry about.'

'The fact that whenever Nobby comes out of there 'ee smells of poison.'

Angua stayed very still for a moment. 'What sort of poison.'

'Stuff they put down for the rats down in the cattle market.'

'Long's sells rat poison, doesn't it.'

'What, the pet man? Yeah, same stuff as well. Why?'

'I saw the boy go into that shop.' Angua paused. 'But why would they poison Nobby?'

'Maybe 'ee knows something.'

'Nobby? Well, he won't know anything intentionally.'

'You're a bit harsh on 'im, Angua.'

Angua shook her head distantly. 'Only telling the truth.' She glanced over to Carrot and seemed to come back into focus. 'Look, just keep an eye on them, will you. I need to deal with...other things.'

'And what's in it for me?'

'Steak?' Angua offered hopefully. It had always worked before.

'Not a chance?'

'What's got into you? Turning down steak?'

'Something more.'

'What sort of thing?' Angua asked cautiously.

'Well, seen as we've found certain things are off limits, 'ow about entry into the Palace when your parents are 'ere?'

'Why?'

'Decent leftovers at the Palace. Plenty of meat too.'

Angua shuddered. 'Sure. You just keep an eye on Nobby. And the two lads.'

'Done.' Gaspode leapt onto the windowsill and glanced in at Carrot. 'Oh. You told 'im yet?'

'Not yet.'

'And he 'asn't noticed?'

'Not everyone has your amazing powers of observation, Gaspode,' Angua said sarcastically.

'How far along are you?'

'Two months, I think.'

'Have to tell 'im soon. He'll start to notice.'

Angua shook her head at herself, wondering why she was having this conversation with Gaspode. 'I doubt it, to be honest.'

'And he didn't notice last night?' Gaspode leered.

'Gaspode!'

'Sorry, sorry.'

'And no, he didn't. But no one else has.'

'Well, apart from me.'

'Apart from you,' Angua conceded. 'But you have better senses than Carrot.'

'In more ways than one. But I bet you-'

'Gaspode!'

'Sorry, sorry.'

'Look, he'll be waking up any minute now. Don't you have things to do - pissing up lampposts, getting the black pudding up at the Assassins?'

'Ooh, yeah. Forgot about that.'

'I'm honoured.'

'Hey, no need for that tone. And keep Carrot away from the Vimeses.'

Angua thought about this for a minute. 'You think they're aiming at coppers.'

'Could be. Vimes, Nobby, all adds up.'

'Why would they hate coppers?'

'Many reasons.' For some reason, Gaspode seemed uncomfortable discussing this with her.

'Right, I'll keep him away. Thanks, Gaspode.'

'No problem. See you tomorrow then.' Angua looked confused. 'When your parents come.'

'It's tomorrow?'

'Yep.'

'Oh gods. Right, I'll see you then.'

'Outside the main gate.'

'Yeah, fine.' Angua seemed distracted.

'Didn't realise it was tomorrow, eh?' Gaspode asked sympathetically.

'Not really, no. Thanks for reminding me, though.'

'Alright. See ya.'

'Bye, Gaspode.' Angua shut the window quietly and returned back to the bed. She watched Carrot sleeping for a moment then curled up beside him, her hand on her stomach. He didn't even stir.

Gaspode ran down to the Assassins' Guild. Black pudding wasn't something to be sniffed at.

* * *

'The bastards!' Vimes was pacing up and down the corporeal landing.

Death regarded Vimes for a moment. YOU SEEM ANGRY.

'Of course I'm angry! Yeah, they can come after me, but not the rest of them.'

WHY NOT?

Vimes stopped for a moment, and looked at Death. 'Because I actually did wrong by them! They had a reason with me, not with the rest of the men.'

Death sat down at a desk which had miraculously appeared out of thin air. He steepled his hands and peered over the top of them. DO YOU THINK YOUR PROBLEMS STEMMED FROM YOUR CHILDHOOD?

Vimes ignored him, and started pacing again. 'Bloody bastards. I'll admit I did wrong by them, but that doesn't give them a reason to start going after Nobby.'

HOW EXACTLY DO YOU FEEL INSIDE?

'I mean, I never went back, I couldn't stand it. But the rest of 'em shouldn't have to suffer because of it.'

DO YOU FEEL ANY SPIRITUAL CONNECTION TO THE REST OF YOUR FAMILY? OR TO THE WATCH?

Vimes finally registered what Death was talking about. 'Eh?'

DO YOU FEEL ANY SORY OF-

'Yeah, I heard you. When did you start talking like a shrink?'

Death looked embarrassed. I'VE BEEN TOLD THAT I SHOULD BE MORE OF A PEOPLE PERSON. His shoulders sagged. I JUST CAN'T SEEM TO GET THE HANG OF IT.

'Here's a tip, mate, don't try to act like a psychiatrist. Doesn't do you any favours.'

ARE YOU SURE? THEY'RE SUPPOSED TO BE PEOPLE PEOPLE.

'No, they know a lot about people. Doesn't make 'em popular.'

AH, WELL. I'LL HAVE TO TRY SOMETHING NEW.

Vimes looked at him sympathetically. 'You don't get out much, do you.'

I AM DEATH. MOST PEOPLE AREN'T THAT PLEASED TO SEE ME.

'Have you considered wearing something more...colourful?'

Death Looked at him. It was a special kind of Look that only those with burning blue eye sockets could give. I AM THE ANTHROPOMORPHIC PERSONIFICATION OF DEATH. I AM NOT SUPPOSED TO BE JOLLY. He considered his statement for a minute. APART FROM WHEN I WAS THE HOGFATHER. I HAD A PASSABLE HO, HO, HO.

'Say that again?'

HO. HO. HO.

'A bit echoey, but I can see the resemblance. Maybe put a little more warmth into it.'

Death Looked at him again. THE ANTHROPOMORPHIC PERSONIFICATION OF DEATH, MISTER VIMES.

'I see. Sorry.'

DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT.


	14. Chapter 14

**I've edited the rest of the story so far for continuity, as it didn't make any sense. Angua, by this point, has been in the Watch for 17 years, making her and Carrot around 34. Sam Vimes has been dead for one month.**

**Hope it makes a bit more sense now :)**

**WARNING: extreme sadness coming up. Yes, I cried. I'm not ashamed to admit it. Enjoy :)**

Angua was standing awkwardly outside the watch house, smoothing down her dress.

'Hey! Angua!'

She turned round to see Sally walking towards her, stunning in green. 'Captain,' she replied mockingly.

'Come on, Angua, drop the work for a minute.'

'I'd rather have the work that what I've got now.'

'Angua, just try and relax a little. What can they do, after all?'

Angua decided not to answer that. She walked over to the doorway of the watch house, ignoring Nobby's wolf whistle.

'Carrot?' she called.

'Coming, coming.' Carrot walked bashfully down the stairs, uncomfortable in a suit he had rented. He kissed her on the cheek. 'You look lovely.'

'Thanks.' For some reason, she couldn't stop clenching and unclenching her fists. He took her hands and held them still.

'Stop worrying,' he told her. He glanced up at the sky. 'No full moon?'

'Vetinari changed the dates. He evidently didn't realise that werewolves have to be wolves in the full moon.'

'Not much good at negotiating?'

'You could say that.'

He paused as they reached the doorway and brushed a stray hair out of her eye. 'Stop worrying, you'll be fine.'

'It's not me I'm worried about.'

Carrot seemed to understand. 'I'll be fine too. They won't dare do anything in front of Vetinari.'

'I wouldn't put it past them.'

'Angua, will you please relax,' Sally told her from behind. 'We'll all be fine.'

'You don't know them.'

'And you think you do? Give them a chance.'

'They'll take any chances they get to hurt someone, Sally, so you'll excuse me if I don't give them any leeway.'

Sally nodded, sensing it probably wasn't a good time to antagonise Angua. 'I'll just get my coat. I'll see you there.'

'Fine,' Carrot replied politely. As they started walking he put an arm around Angua's shoulders. 'Aren't you cold?'

'Not really. I don't do cold.'

He fiddled with the material of her sleeve. 'Dress is lovely. Is it new?'

'It's one of the ones I brought from home. I thought it might give them a bit of a shock.'

'You haven't changed, you know.'

Angua shuddered. 'You've got no idea how much I have changed since I left.'

'Well, in the time I've known you.' He pulled her closer. 'And you chose me, not them, so don't be frightened that I'll see them and become terrified of you.'

'I never said-'

'You didn't have to.'

_Where's this complexity come from?_ Angua wondered. _Maybe I should tell him._

'Carrot?'

'Yes?'

'Carrot, I'm-'

'Delphine?' a voice called from the end of the street.

Angua recognised the voice, and hesitated. 'Mother?' she asked quietly.

Serafine von Uberwald, looking straight at her daughter with angry golden eyes, so different from her daughter's blue ones, started walking towards her. Immediately, Angua pulled herself away from Carrot.

Her mother was about five feet away from her, and Angua's heart started thumping. She stopped, and Angua felt the glare go straight through her like a knife.

'You always were scared of me, weren't you,' her mother said.

'For a good reason.'

Serafine turned to Carrot. 'Won't you introduce us, Delphine?' she asked in sickly sweet tones.

Angua swallowed. 'Mother, this is Carrot. I believe you've met him.'

Carrot held out his hand for her to shake, and Angua saw her mother's gaze lock on to the veins in his wrist. 'Don't even think about it,' she hissed.

Serafine looked as if she hadn't heard her speak. 'Pleased to meet you again, Carrot.'

Carrot nodded, but Angua realised that he was staring at her shaking. She told herself to pull it together. 'Where's Father.'

Serafine glanced around. 'Oh, he's here somewhere. Probably under the table.'

'You brought him as a _wolf_?'

'No. As a human. That's the worst bit.'

'Well, thank gods we're not like that,' Angua said acidly.

'Quite.' Her mother glared at her. 'And now I must go to speak with Vetinari.'

'Of course,' Carrot said calmly. 'And we must go over to Sybil. Sybil Vimes, you remember her?'

'Of course. Where's her husband?'

'He died last month,' Carrot replied steadily.

'What a shame. He was a remarkable man.'

'You could say that. Shall we, Angua?' He took her arm and steered her away from her mother, who followed them with her glare.

'I don't like her,' Carrot proclaimed.

Angua had to stifle a giggle. 'Not so loud, Carrot. And join the club.'

'I take it Sybil's still not fond of her.'

'You could say that. And the feeling's mutual.'

Carrot looked pensive for a moment. 'You're close to Sybil, aren't you?'

'Most of the time.'

'Well, pretend to be even closer. That'll really irk your mother.'

'Carrot!'

'Don't worry, I've already talked to Sybil. Just be a little more...loving.'

Angua sighed. 'Alright. How do I do that?'

'Just be yourself.'

'What, the cold, heartless bitch?'

'You're not like that.'

'Make me go a day without coffee, I dare you.'

'I'm terrified,' a voice said from below. Angua looked down.

'Gaspode?'

'Yeff.' The dog let go of the mouthful of dress that he was tugging. 'So, you're gonna get me in.'

'Sure, sure. Just follow me.'

'What's that?' Carrot asked.

'Oh, just Gaspode. He's doing me a favour, so I'm letting him in here.'

'Not that sort of favour, if you thought-' Gaspode was cut off by a well placed kick. 'Hey, that hurt.'

'Gaspode, can you smell my father anywhere?'

'Well, I could do, when you get me inside.'

'Carrot, shall we go in?' Angua asked.

'Sure. And I think I've spotted your father.'

'Where?'

'Is he the one by that table over there?' Carrot pointed to a man stuffing himself with rare steak.

'Oh gods.' Angua paused. 'Can you just wait here a moment, Carrot? There's something I've got to do.'

'Fine. I'll be over with Sybil.'

Angua started walking over to her father, repulsed at the smell of the meat. She pulled up a chair and say next to him. 'Hello, Father.'

Guye von Uberwald raised his bloodshot eyes from the meat. 'Delphine?' he said hoarsely.

'Father, control yourself, please.'

'Huh?' He raised his hands, streaked with blood, and looked at her. Silently she passed him a cloth, and he studied it for a moment before remembering what it was for.

'Father, how much time have you been spending as a human?'

'A wolf is the pure form, Delphine,' he reminded her. 'You never did get the hang of that.'

'Being a wolf, Father, means ripping people to shreds and not having any knowledge of what a doorknob is for. And stop that.'

Her father adjusted his clothing and looked embarrassed. 'But being human is so constraining. You can't run like the wind...'

'That's good for you then, if humans can't,' Angua said bitterly.

'Eh?'

'Father, have you eaten anything but meat?' She had just noticed how thin he was.

'There is no food which equates to it.' Her father belched and she grimaced.

'Father, get a grip on yourself,' she hissed. 'You're in the company of some very respectable people.' She played her trump card. 'And you know how much it'll upset mother.'

'Where is your mother?'

'Talking to Vetinari, I think.'

'But that is my business!'

'Father, you're sitting at a table piled high with meat and stuffing your face with it. You don't seem to be someone who can conduct any sort of business affair.'

'I take that as an insult, Delphine.'

Angua just looked at him. She had never been scared of her father, because in some way he was too pathetic to be scared of. Instead, she pitied him.

Her mother, though, that was a different matter.

All of a sudden she felt a sharp pain in her abdomen. 'Excuse me,' she told her father.

'Delphine?'

Angua stood up and manoeuvred herself through the endless crowds that were milling in the Great Hall. She found someone who looked vaguely authoritative and asked him the way to the bathrooms, making a big show of fiddling in her handbag so that she wouldn't have to show her face, then walked quickly in the direction of where he had pointed. Once in the room, she slammed the door shut, locked it, and slumped down onto the floor.

The pain was worse now. It felt like someone was jabbing a knife into her and twisting. She gasped, and felt something stir.

Only one thing stirred.

She started to sob.

* * *

THIS IS THE WORST BIT, Death commented, wielding his scythe. Gently, he severed the thin blue lines between Angua and the spirits. THE CHILDREN.

Vimes stared down at Angua, sobbing on the floor. 'How does she know?'

WEREWOLF SENSES, I SUPPOSE. SHE CAN HEAR HEARTBEATS. AND A MOTHER'S INSTINCT.

'Can't you do anything?'

Death looked at him sympathetically. IF I HELPED HER I WOULD HAVE TO HELP EVERYONE IN HER POSITION.

'And I can't help her?'

NO. YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO INTERFERE.

'And you've never interfered, have you,' Vimes said scathingly.

I HAVE INTERFERED. YOU SAID YOU HAD MET MY GRANDDAUGHTER.

'Yeah, how did that work?'

I ADOPTED HER MOTHER.

'Well, that all makes sense now.'

Death leaned forward again and gently cut through the gossamer threads. SOMETIMES THINGS DON'T MAKE SENSE. SOMETIMES THEY ARE COMPLETELY RANDOM. He stood up slowly and looked down at Angua. AND SOMETIMES THERE'S A MEANING BEHIND THE BAD THINGS.

**Please review :)**


	15. Chapter 15

**An Angua devoted chapter; I thought that as I nearly killed her in the last chapter she deserved it. **

**Feedback appreciated :)**

'Angua?'

Angua moaned and tried to curl up into a ball.

'Angua?'

She opened one eye and looked up into the face of Sally. 'Oh, gods.'

'Angua, what's going on.'

She managed to raise herself into a sitting position, with her knees drawn up to her chest. 'Just feeling ill.'

'Angua, you remember I'm a vampire.'

'How could I forget?'

'And you know I can hear heartbeats?'

Angua paused. 'Oh.'

'Exactly,' Sally replied. 'Now, lie down.'

'But I've just managed to sit up.'

'Angua.'

Obediently, Angua lay on the cold bathroom floor whilst Sally put a hand on her stomach. 'Two dead,' she said quietly.

Angua started to sob again. Sally pulled her up into a sitting position and hugged her.

'Sally...' Angua almost couldn't ask the question. 'Is there any blood?'

'No, none.'

'So they're just... inside me?'

'Look, Angua, you need to tell Carrot.'

'No!' Sally looked surprised at her outburst. 'Sally, I can't tell him.'

'Well, you need to get looked at by a doctor.'

'I'll be fine.'

'Do you understand the risk of infection? Or the risk to the one that's still alive.'

'I'll be fine.'

'Angua,' Sally said warningly. Angua chose to ignore her, and stood up shakily, supporting herself by clinging onto a sink. Bile rose in her throat and she retched, but nothing came.

Sally was holding her hair back. 'Angua, you need to tell him.'

'I don't need to tell him anything.'

'Angua, you've been going out for years. Remember all that stuff about trust.'

'It's not that I don't trust him, it's that...'

Sally stood back and looked at Angua. 'It's that you're terrified of what the child will become.'

Angua nodded miserably.

'And you hope that by keeping the other two inside you might kill it?' Sally said challengingly.

Angua raised her head slowly. 'Don't you ever think that,' she hissed. 'This is my child.'

'One that you don't want.'

'I do...' Angua slumped. 'I do want it, but I'm scared of her.'

'Have you thought of any names?'

'Really?' Angua said scathingly. 'You think I would choose a name for her, but you're certain I would kill her?'

'Have you thought of any names?' Sally asked again.

'No, I haven't. It would have been tempting fate.'

'I can see how that worked out for you,' Sally murmured, and was nearly knocked over by Angua's slap. 'Ow.'

'Consider that a sign of my frustration,' Angua told her. 'And my lack of a sense of humour.'

All if a sudden, another stab of pain went through her. Sally caught her as she fell to the floor.

'Angua, you need to see someone.'

'I don't!' she gasped. A knife was twisting its way through her abdomen, ripping her open.

'Angua!'

'NO!' Almost as soon as it had come, the pain faded. 'See, I'm fine.'

Sally looked at her dubiously. 'I don't believe you.'

'Well, you're going to. I want to go home.'

'I'll help you.' Gently, Sally lifted her under the arms, and splashed some water on her face. 'You look shocking.'

'Thanks. Very kind of you.'

'I'll just tell Carrot that you're ill. Food poisoning.'

'Don't tell my mum and dad.'

'I wasn't going to.' Sally wiped Angua's forehead with a towel and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. 'That might make you look a little better.'

'Thank you, Sally.'

'Don't worry about it.' Sally looked down at the floor where Angua had been lying. 'No one deserves that.'

* * *

Angua lay on her bed at Mrs Cake's, shivering. For some reason she found herself studying the pattern on the carpet in detail, looking at how the different shades of brown interwove and spiralled. After a while her head started to hurt, but at least it was a distraction from the pain in her stomach.

Mrs Cake knocked on the door. 'I'll just get that for you, then.'

'You've left your precognition on again, Mrs Cake,' Angua mumbled.

Mrs Cake stuck a finger in her ear and wiggled it. 'Sorry about that, dear.' She looked down at Angua, curled up on the bed. 'You alright?'

'Not really. Is Ludmilla in?'

Mrs Cake's mouth tightened. 'Not at the moment, no.'

'Do you know when she'll be back?'

The door slammed, and Ludmilla could be heard in the kitchen. 'I would say about now,' Mrs Cake replied.

Angua smiled wanly. 'Can I see her?'

'I'll just go and ask.' Mrs Cake bustled out of the room and could be heard shouting at her daughter, who screamed back. Angua couldn't be bothered to try and make out the words.

Finally, Ludmilla entered. 'You alright, Angua?'

Angua managed to sit up and leant against the back wall. 'Ludmilla, your parents weren't werewolves, were they?'

'Nope. Always a bit of a mystery, me.'

'And how were you born?'

'Eh? The normal way, I hope.'

'No, I mean as a human or a wolf. Well, wolf woman.'

'As a human, I think. I didn't start to change until I was about five. That was a shock.'

'I bet. And how many wolf people are there?'

'They're fairly common. Usually from a werewolf falling in love with a human.'

'Ye gods,' Angua murmured.

'How is Carrot, anyway?' Ludmilla asked cattily.

'He's fine, fine.'

'Glad to hear it.' Ludmilla stood up. 'Is that everything?'

'Are you happy, Ludmilla?'

Ludmilla looked around. 'Well, it's not the best life, truth be told, but you get on with it. Could be worse, after all. Is that everything?'

Angua fought to keep her voice level. 'Should be all.'

'Do you want some water?'

'It's alright, I've got some.'

Ludmilla left the room and Angua lay back down on the bed, wrapping herself in her arms.

After a while you could hear someone crying.

* * *

That night, Angua dreamed.

She never usually dreamed; it was a defence mechanism that she had formulated from an early age. But that night, she dreamed.

She was watching Carrot standing on the Brass Bridge, looking over the edge. He picked up two parcels from the floor, and held them over the side.

Angua found herself shaking from the cold. All she was wearing was a loose gown.

Carrot went completely still for just a moment, then let go. The parcels fell. She stood there, numb.

Carrot walked over to her and pulled her to him. She savoured the warmth.

'They're gone, Angua.'

She nodded.

'They won't hurt you.'

Angua relaxed into his embrace, but was startled when he suddenly drew away and started to climb up onto the railings.

'Carrot?' she whispered hoarsely.

'And neither will I,' Carrot said calmly.

Too late, Angua found that she was able to move. She started running.

He fell.

She woke up screaming.


	16. Chapter 16

The next day, Angua woke up and faced the world.

Nobody noticed.

* * *

Vimes surveyed the Discworld morosely. 'So, down there, people are dying all day, every day, for no reason whatsoever?'

YES.

'And you have to...pick up the pieces?'

I REGARD MYSELF AS THE COLLECTOR OF UNCONSIDERED TRIFLES, Death said solemnly.

'And do you attend all of these deaths?'

IN ONE WAY OR ANOTHER.

'But how can you be in two places at once?'

Death shrugged. BLAME THE BLOODY QUANTUM.

'So, in some universe,' Vimes was fairly sketchy on quantum, 'Angua's children wouldn't have died?'

POSSIBLY. Death shrugged again. BUT YOU NEVER CAN TELL. BUT THEN AGAIN, IN ONE UNIVERSE ALL THREE MIGHT HAVE DIED.

'You know you've got those lifetimers?'

YES.

'Have you got the kid's? Angua's baby's?'

NO. THE NATURE OF A FOETUS IS...UNKNOWN. THERE ARE MANY DISAGREEMENTS AS TO WHEN LIFE BEGINS.

'So you can't tell if the baby'll live?'

NOT REALLY.

'Not _really_?'

THAT WAS A EUPHEMISTIC WAY OF SAYING NO.

'I see.' Vimes sighed and watched the spirits of the world float away. 'Where do they all go?'

IT IS NOT IN MY POSITION TO SAY. MY DOMAIN IS THE DEATH, NOT THE AFTERLIFE.

'So you have no idea?'

NO. AND NO ONE EVER SEEMS TO COME BACK.

Vimes could feel the question prodding at the back of his mind. 'So why am I still here?'

Death sighed. THERE IS A THEORY THAT PEOPLE ONLY TRULY DIE WHEN THEIR IMPACT ON THE WORLD DOESN'T MATTER ANY MORE. FOR YOU, IT SEEMS THAT YOU'VE LIVED ON IN PEOPLE'S THOUGHTS, THEIR ACTIONS, HOW THEY VIEW LIFE. THAT SORT OF THING.

'So...I was important?'

YES, I WOULD SAY SO. ALTHOUGH YOU SEEM TO VIEW YOUR GREATEST ACCOMPLISHMENTS TO BE THE RUNNING OF THE WATCH AND TURNING THAT INTO LESS OF A MESS.

'_Less of a mess?_'

YOU SEE. Death smiled. BUT IN REALITY IT IS IN THE PEOPLE THAT YOU KNEW THAT YOU LIVE ON. CARROT, NOBBY, ANGUA, ESPECIALLY SYBIL. IT IS THOSE PEOPLE WHO REMEMBER YOU.

'I wasn't aware I ever meant that much to them,' Vimes said dryly.

NO ONE EVER IS, UNTIL THEY SEE IT FROM ABOVE.

'When you die, doesn't your life flash before your eyes? I never had that.'

YOUR LIFE DID FLASH THROUGH YOUR EYES. IT WAS CALLED LIVING.

'Very smart, very smart,' Vimes said moodily. 'Then why is there the whole idea of your life flashing before your eyes?'

I'M NOT SURE. IT ISN'T LIKE ANYONE COMES BACK TO TALK AFTER THEY'VE DIED.

Vimes sighed as he looked down. 'God, I wish I could go back.'

A skeletal hand patted him on the shoulder. IN SOME WAYS, YOU'RE STILL THERE.

* * *

'Enter, commander,' Vetinari called, shuffling some papers on his desk in a way that conveyed that they were more important than a list of dog sanctuaries in Ankh-Morpork. He was thinking of buying a puppy.

Carrot walked in and saluted. 'At ease, commander.'

Carrot sat down. 'Was there a reason for you asking for me?' he asked politely.

'I just wanted to enquire as to the health of Captain Angua. She did not look well last night.'

'She thinks it was food poisoning, sir. Something that she ate yesterday morning, probably.'

'Quite. And she is feeling better now?'

'She says so, sir.'

Vetinari studied Carrot's face closely. 'And is she, commander?'

Carrot shifted uncomfortably. 'Well, she doesn't look well, sir, but she's told me that she feels fine.'

'Well, I suppose we should believe her. And the watch, you are coping with it?'

'I seem to be, sir. There is a lot of work to do, though.'

'I understand that, commander. That is why your predecessor threw all of the paperwork out.'

'I've given it to Inspector Pessimal.'

'An altogether better idea. I've always praised you for your ability to think of a solution.'

'Have you?' Carrot asked, confused.

'Oh yes, commander. It's just that I don't make it a habit to praise people to their faces. It makes them relax too much.'

'Then why did you tell me?'

'Because of your complete and utter devotion, commander. I know you won't stop working, not for the watch. And it is this point that I really wanted to talk to you about.'

'Is my work not satisfactory?'

'On the contrary, commander. Your work is exceptional, it is just that sometimes I worry whether you overdo it. You do have other commitments, after all.'

'Like what?'

'I would think that Angua is fairly high up on the list.'

'We work around it, sir.'

'Do you, commander? Because from what I hear she's a little upset at how absorbed you are in your work.'

'And where did you here that, sir? Carrot asked coldly.

'Oh, various sources,' Vetinari replied ambiguously. 'It's just that I really wouldn't want your relationship to be damaged by your work.'

Carrot sighed. 'I'll see what I can do, sir. Is that everything'

Vetinari glanced down at a piece of paper. On it, in large letters, was written 'Greyhound'. 'It seems to be, commander.'

'May I leave?'

'Of course, of course.' Vetinari waved a hand absentmindedly. 'Don't let me keep you, commander. Just remember what I've said.'

'I will, sir.'

Carrot walked out slowly, gently closing the door behind him. For a moment Vetinari missed the sound of a fist hitting the wall, but soon remembered the cost of the plasterers.

'Drumknott?' he called. 'Fetch me the clacks from Lady Margolotta.'

His clerk arrived with a sheaf of papers. 'All there, sir, and the information you requested from the kennels.'

'Thank you, Drumknott. By the way, have you ever owned a dog?'

'My family had one when I was young, sir. A little terrier called Spot.'

'And would you recommend a terrier?'

'Ye gods, no, sir. Unless you want to be kept up half the night by barking.'

Vetinari crossed something off on a sheet of paper. 'That will be all, Drumknott.'

'Thank you, sir.'

Vetinari settled back to read.


	17. Chapter 17

'Nobby?' he heard Angua call from the office.

Sighing, he nodded to Colon and started walking upstairs. 'Yes, miss?'

'Captain, please.'

'Yes, captain.'

Angua looked agitated. 'Nobby, how many times have you visited the Tabrams?'

'The who?' Nobby replied, feigning innocence.

'Nobby, don't muck around with me. It's been a long day.'

'It's nine o'clock in the morning.'

'Well, a long night. Anyway, how many times have you seen her? Mrs Tabram?'

'A few, captain.'

'Nobby, I do work here, you know. And Fred's been moaning to everyone for weeks that you've not been going down the Drum with him.'

'What about if I was doin' somethin' else, eh?' Nobby asked haughtily.

'You mean Tawnee?' Angua scoffed. 'Give up, Nobby.'

'How do you know we're not in love?'

'Because I probably talk to Tawnee more than you, Nobby, and she told me and Sally that she hasn't seen you for months.'

Nobby sighed. 'Alright, so I wasn't with Tawnee.'

'I know,' Angua said testily. 'We've already established that.'

'You alright, miss?'

'I'm fine, fine,' Angua said angrily. 'I just want to know what you're doing with Eleanor Tabram.'

'I'm just talking to her.'

'About what?'

'About Mister Vimes. About her sons, like you asked me,' Nobby said pointedly.

'No you aren't.'

'How do you know?'

'Because it doesn't take someone five hours a week to talk about her sons. And interrogating someone isn't a conversation with them, Nobby.'

'Yeah, you know that,' Nobby muttered. Even hardened criminals dreaded an interview with Captain Angua. It was something about the glare. It was a glare with teeth.

Angua glared at Nobby, and he felt himself draw back. 'Hilarious, Nobby,' she said sarcastically.

'Hey, you're younger than me. So technically, I should be in charge.'

'In your nightmares, Nobby. Anyway, I'm a higher rank than you. That's what matters.'

'How old are you?'

'Thirty four.'

'Eh, same.'

'Nobby, you've been thirty four for as long as I've known you. And you're not answering the question.'

They heard the door slam open. 'Riot in the Shades!' Carrot shouted to the watchmen. He ran upstairs. 'Angua, come with me.'

Angua stood up. 'Where?'

He grabbed her arm. 'Just come on!'

'Sir?' Nobby asked politely.

'What?'

'What shall I do?'

'Get down there, Nobby. It's between Cockbill Street and Shamlegger Street, apparently.

Nobby glanced at Angua, who nodded. 'I'll just get my helmet, Carrot.'

'Angua!'

She turned round and glared at him. Nobby stepped back. 'Is there a problem, Carrot?'

Carrot stepped forward and held her arm. 'Please, Angua.'

'Fine.' She sighed loudly and pulled on her helmet. 'Nobby, just make sure they're safe.

Nobby nodded. _We're in this together,_ he thought. _I'm helping solve a crime. I'm doing _sergeant_ work!_

'Sure, miss.'

* * *

Carrot and Angua walked out the door.

'Carrot, where are we going?' Dimly, they could hear the shouts from the Shades.

'To the Palace.'

'Why?'

'I want to speak to the Patrician.'

'What about? And why do you need me?'

'It's about you.'

Angua stopped dead and wrenched her arm away from Carrot. 'What about me?' she asked harshly.

He grabbed her arm again, and she almost hit him. 'Just come on,' he urged.

'Why should I?'

'Because he seems to know everything about you and I don't!' Carrot yelled.

Angua's face went white. 'What did he tell you?' She could feel her heart thumping.

'That you were upset that you weren't seeing enough of me with me being the Commander.'

'And you believed him?' Angua asked incredulously.

'Why wouldn't I? You've been acting strangely for weeks!'

'Carrot,' Angua said urgently.

'What?'

'If you want to get to the Patrician's you'd better do it quickly.'

'Why?' Carrot turned to look at where Angua was staring. 'Oh.'

Flames could be seen poking their heads out of the shacks in the Shades. Right over Cockbill Street.

'Shall we go?' she asked quietly.

Carrot started running towards the Patrician's palace, Angua struggling to keep up with the constant pain in her stomach. They ran up the stairs and into the Oblong Office.

Vetinari turned around calmly. 'Ah, commander. And captain. You wish to see me?'

'Tell her what you said,' Carrot panted, pointing at her. For a brief moment, Angua could see Vimes in him.

'About what, commander?'

'About me not loving her enough!' At this, Vetinari raised his eyebrows and Angua felt her face grow hot, but Carrot continued, oblivious. 'About her being ill and me not noticing. About her being sad that I wasn't seeing her!'

Angua stayed silent, watching the Patrician's face carefully. Not a muscle moved until he started speaking in a calm, level tone. He turned towards her.

'Captain, I was merely expressing my concerns that Carrot may have been overworking himself, and that you were not seeing as much of him as you would like to.'

Angua felt bile rise in her throat at the thought of what Vetinari could have said. 'I'm not sure that it's for you to say what I do and do not like, sir.'

'Quite.' Vetinari's smile was topped with a slowly circling fin. 'I was only concerned about you.'

'And how did you know about us, eh?' Carrot asked loudly. Angua sighed inwardly.

'Malicious tyrant, you remember?' Vetinari said cheerfully. 'I make it my business to know what is happening in my city.'

'The city and our relationship are two completely different things!'

'You'd be surprised at how tightly they are interwoven,' Vetinari said calmly. Angua shot a glare at him, but he didn't seem to notice. A day in the presence of her parents forced you to build a fairly good wall against glares. 'And commander, I think you have more pressing matters than what I know about you and Captain Angua.'

Angua glanced out of the huge, curved window at the flames leaping out of the Shades. 'Carrot, does this really matter?'

'Yes!'

'But there's-'

'Angua, all I want to know is that you're safe, and that you love me. The rest of it doesn't matter.'

The Patrician coughed from behind them. 'Captain Angua is right, commander. I would say that the possible burning of the city is a rather urgent matter.'

Carrot seemed to break out of some sort of trance. 'Bucket chains?' he asked the Patrician.

'I have men already there.'

'Food supplies for afterwards?'

'Of course. And warm drinks.'

Angua remembered the last fire. The survivors had been sheltered in the watch houses, and in the process of nicking all the valuables* had stolen the coffee. People avoided the coppers for weeks afterwards.

Angua shook Carrot's arm. 'We should go.'

'Course, course,' Carrot murmured, still staring at the Patrician, who seemed impervious. 'With your permission, sir?'

'You may leave, commander.'

'Oh, and my lord?'

'Yes, commander.'

'I'm sorry for shouting.'

'Quite alright, commander.'

* * *

*Well, this was a watch house, frequented by people who watched criminals every day**. There wasn't much left to steal.

**And Nobby Nobbs.

**Ah, wouldn't we all love to argue with Vetinari. Provided, of course, that he didn't have a knife anywhere to hand. **

**It might seem as if I've made Carrot a little OOC here, but I remember one moment (can't remember which book) where Vimes says that the only time he ever saw Carrot come close to losing it was when Angua got shot. I'm pretty sure he'd be distraught if anyone thought he wasn't looking after Angua. **

**Please review :)**


	18. Chapter 18

Nobby felt the flames crisp the hair on the back of his neck as he watched Matt Tabram climb to the summit of a pile of broken furniture, a megaphone in his hand.

'People of the Shades!' he yelled, the megaphone not quite loud enough to cover the sound of his voice shaking.

The crowd went silent. They knew how to do this.

'People of the Shades! What are we fighting for?'

As one, the people shuffled backwards and looked at the floor.

'Come on!' Matt yelled in frustration. 'We've practiced this.'

A group of fairly drunk men staggered forward from behind Nobby. 'Nae ruler, Nae law!' they chorused.

Again, Nobby felt like he was wearing the wrong uniform. He should have stayed in the army. Everyone loves a soldier*.

'That's right!' Matt shouted. 'Nae Ruler, Nae Law. 'Cos what does the law do? It represses us. It constrains our freedom. It makes us do things we don't want to!'

_Yes_, Nobby thought. _Things that are right._

But the people agreed with Matt. 'Aye!' they chorused.

'And what are we going to do about it?'

The crowd shuffled its feet again. Matt decided to answer his own question. 'We're gonna kick 'em out!' he roared. 'We're gonna crush 'em!'

The crowd roared.

The crowd ran at where Matt was pointing. Right at the Watch.

The crowd yelled. As Nobby was knocked over he found himself remembering his last conversation with Eleanor Tabram.

''_Ee's just been actin' strange recently,' she had mumbled._

_'Who? Matt?'_

_'Yeah. Just...suspicious. Shifty. Like 'ee's up to somethin'. Always out, meetin' with these big bands of people.'_

_'What they been sayin'?'_

_'Oh, the usual. Overthrow the Patrician_, _freedom for all, that sorta thing.'_

_'That happen a lot?'_

_'More often than you'd want to. Though this time, they're aimin' it at the Watch.'_

_'How come?'_

_'They liked Sam. Well, respected him, and that's a lot around 'ere. And then they saw the funeral, the state funeral, and it made 'im look like some posh nob. And now they're worried about the Watch goin' back to what it used to be. Most of them can remember the_ _revolution. The glorious one.'_

Nobby, when he was a kid, had thought that all revolutions were glorious. Then he had been in one.

Nobby was in one now.

The crowd roared at him, and he knew he should have seen this coming.

He should have told someone.

Nobby closed his eyes, and waited for the roar and the screams to engulf him. Instead, it stopped, at one word from a very familiar voice.

'Eh!' Mrs Tabram shouted.

The crowd ground to a halt, and Nobby dared to open his eyes. He saw Eleanor Tabram, her face bright red, storming down the gap between the mob and the Watch.

'Eh, Matt!'

Matt Tabram watched his mother walking towards him with a smug look on his face. 'Come to join the Revolution, Mam?'

'Ye gods, no, lad! You ever bin in a revolution?' She looked around at the people surrounding him, mostly young men, still wet behind the ears. 'Have any of you?'

The people shuffled.

'Have you ever seen a revolution, lads? Because you sure as hells** wouldn't have started another if you had.'

'Mother, you are obstructing us in our duty,' Matt said grandly.

Smoke was nearly coming out of Mrs Tabram's ears. 'Duty, lad, duty? To ruin the name of your uncle, to ruin everythin' ee ever did?' she spat. 'That's your duty?'

'To defeat the oppressors? Yes,' Matt retorted calmly.

'The people who've made this city slightly less lawless? The people who have worked their arses off all day everyday to try and make this city a better place for you lot?'

'Yeah, and the good it's done us!' someone yelled from the back. 'What've the Patricians ever done for us?'

'Reformed this city into something less of a shambles?'

'Hey!' shouted a group from the back, evidently from The Shambles. Mrs Tabram ignored them.

'Given us clean running water?'

The crowd hung its head.

'Given us a decent supply of food? Made sure our kids've learnt to read an' write?'

'Yeah, but only this Patrician.'

'But 'ee'll know who to give power to. And they'll carry on with 'is work.'

Nobby turned to look at Matt's reaction to this. He faced an empty tower of sticks.

'Hey!' he shouted. 'Where's ya leader?'

Colon elbowed him in the ribs. 'Shut up,' he hissed.

Mrs Tabram turned round, saw him and smiled. 'I'll be your leader now,' she proclaimed to the crowd, walking up to the foot of the tower. 'Well, kingship was hereditary.'

A few of the brighter ones in the crowd snickered.

Mrs Tabram started to climb the tower. Her skirt caught on a loose chair leg and she untied it frustratedly. 'I'll be your leader now.'

She reached the top of the tower and stood tall, and for one moment the setting sun illuminated her hair like a halo.

The glare stopped her from seeing the arrow heading towards her.

It hit her square in the chest, and blood blossomed across the faded blouse like a flower, something Eleanor Tabram rarely experienced.

She fell back gracefully, her back arching like a ballerina's as she toppled down the ungainly pile of wood.

Nobby was the first one to start running. But he wasn't running towards Mrs Tabram, he was running towards where the arrow had come from.

He was running towards Matt Tabram.

* * *

*This is true. If they lose, they are the unfortunate protectors of the land, if they win they are the gallant knights, a description no one had ever given Nobby. If they're court-marshalled for looting and pillaging little plaques are put up congratulating them on a noble death. Either way, the soldier always wins. Unless they die.

**Sometimes, you could never be too careful.


	19. Chapter 19

Hi everyone, sorry about the wait - I've had loads of work to do and a sore hand, two things which don't go too well together. Anyway, here it is :)

Please review :)

Walking round the corner, keeping far away from Carrot, Angua caught a distant waft of the poison again. She started walking faster, and hurried through the crowds of people, just as the arrow flew through the air. The whole crowd seemed to solidify as the people went stock still, but then she heard Nobby's scream.

Angua ran over to the body, away from Carrot, but the stench of poison drove her back. Through streaming eyes, she saw Carrot walking towards her, but she shook her head and gestured to the body.

'Poisoned arrow,' she managed to gasp.

'What sort of poison?'

'Rat poison.'

'You can-?'

He was interrupted by the shout of Nobby from the other side of the street. 'Angua?'

Angua turned and caught sight of the fleeing shape of two boys. She nodded, understanding, and ran over to Nobby.

'He shot her,' Nobby sobbed.

Angua awkwardly put a hand on Nobby's shoulder. 'Nobby, I think you'd better go and help Carrot.'

Nobby raised his head angrily. 'He shot her!'

'Nobby, I know. Just go and help Carrot.'

'But I want to-'

'Nobby, I'll catch them. Don't worry.'

'Just get 'em,' Nobby said softly, angrily. 'Just get him.'

Angua started running.

* * *

Vimes watched Carrot step away from the body and raise his hands. The crowd shuffled.

'Alright,' he said loudly. 'You won. And now you can do whatever the hell you want. You can torment the city, you can drive us into rack and ruin, you can make people dread stepping into the Shades again. Is that what you want?'

Someone raised his head and cried 'Defeat the oppressors.' No one answered his cry. Carrot nodded to Colon, who gently led the man away.

Carrot gestured behind him. 'Who shot her?'

A multitude of suggestions came up. A Klatchian spy who wanted to keep the city as it was, a man famed for wearing a cotton apron, a man of the Patrician who knew something about Vimes, an artist who lived in that house, that one just there...

'It was her son,' Nobby called. The crowd went silent.

'Her son?' Carrot replied slowly.

'Yep. Matthew Tabram, aged seventeen, currently resides with the deceased.'

'And how do you know this?'

'Because I knew the family, alright? She used to talk to me about them.'

'But why did you know them?'

Vimes saw Nobby weigh up the possibility of Carrot going spare or Angua going spare, and chose the right answer. 'I knew 'em from when I was a kid.'

Carrot nodded, apparently satisfied, but then someone from the crowd decided to make an input. 'That's a lie!'

'Who says?' Nobby retorted angrily.

A woman Vimes recognised vaguely as a seamstress stepped forwards, an angry face creasing the layers of make up.

'Reet?' Carrot asked.

'Alright, Carrot.' Reet walked straight past him and stood in front of Nobby. 'You asked me directions to their house!'

Nobby was visibly shaking. 'I thought they 'ad moved.'

'No, there's something else, ain't there. Something to do with your boss.'

'Me?' Carrot enquired.

'No, Vimes.' Carrot looked crestfallen, but Reet carried on. 'There's something between Vimes and that family, the Tabrams.'

'Hang on, where do they live?' Colon asked.

'Cockbill Street.'

'Isn't that where Mister Vimes grew up?'

'Yep,' Nobby said sullenly. 'I wanted to tell 'em what happened.'

'And what did happen, Nobby?' Carrot asked softly. 'Because I'm betting it wasn't that he had died naturally.'

'Because he didn't,' Nobby replied. 'Ask Angua.'

Carrot looked around. 'Where is Angua?'

* * *

Angua followed the trail of poison through the Shades.

It glowed orange in front of her, a bright streak against the backdrop of common smells - leather, grease, whitewash, blood...

Blood.

The smell caught Angua's senses, even more potent than the poison. She doubled back until she found the source, and saw a huddled shape on the floor.

She changed into human, breathed shallowly and walked over to the body. She reached it, and managed to pick up a cold, clammy wrist. She knew that there would be no pulse before she checked, but it was police procedure.

She pulled the man's helmet off, and groaned.

It was a copper.

She picked up his badge, disgusted that she didn't know his name, but she at least knew the rank. He was a constable, number 187, according to the badge, and she recognised the number. Constable Coles, she had promoted him a week after he had joined up for his intelligence. Born in the Shades, never learnt to read and write, but so sharp he'd cut himself. She had dumped all of the paperwork on him after she promoted him, like a warning. He had stopped correcting her after that.

Now, he was dead. She drew back the collar on his tunic and saw the slices in his throat. It never got any easier, seeing it.

She found a piece of tarpaulin at the back of the alleyway and covered the body as well as she could. She muttered a quick prayer to whatever god could find the lad's soul, and left the body there.

Quickly, she turned back, and tried to pick up the trail again. It was still there, still blazing orange, but the rain that had just started to fall had weakened it slightly.

She tracked the smell for about five minutes, then arrived at a dead end. Her stupid, stupid wolf mind hesitated. It was just long enough for the scent bomb to be dropped.

Her mind screaming with the smell of peppermint, she changed into human. Through streaming eyes and a pounding head, she managed to pull herself up onto the wall and sat there, wheezing.

An arm went round her throat and she was pulled backwards, toppling off the narrow ledge. She landed, hard, but managed to roll away quickly enough for the knife to clatter on the ground. She whipped round, snarling, and was nearly caught by the blow that came towards her head. She kicked out wildly, and changed back into wolf. Her attacker started screaming, and fled, and the tiny part of her that was always Angua sighed at the melodrama. The wolf part ran after him.

She caught up with the man...no, the boy, at the end of the alleyway.

'Who are you?' she growled.

The boy looked up at the wolf pinning him down, and gulped. 'I've been sent from Guye.'

Angua glared at the kid. 'Stay there,' she ordered him. She changed in a cold alleyway and returned to him. In fairness to him, he didn't stare too much.

'Do you know who I am?' she asked.

'Delphine von Uberwald.'

'I go by the name Angua here.'

'Why?'

She stared at the boy, impressed by his intelligence. 'Can you guess why?'

'Because it connects you to your parents?'

'Good, good,' Angua said slowly. 'Now, why did you just try to kill me? And I don't want the answer "because someone told me to" because I get that all day, everyday, and I know in this case they will have given you a reason.'

The boy sat up tentatively. 'How do you know they did?'

'Because a lad like you would ask questions, right?' She smiled at the boy's nod. 'Now, what did they say?'

'Your mother and father said different things.'

'Well, tell me both of them,' Angua said calmly.

'Well, your father said it was because you were an insult to the family.'

'I bet he did.'

'And your mother said it was because you're a threat to them. You know too much.'

'My mother told you the truth?'

The boy nodded.

'What about that other copper back there?'

The boy looked confused. 'Who?'

'That other boy. Constable, killed. Someone slit his throat.'

The boy held out his empty hands. 'I've got nothing.'

'You had a knife,' she said accusingly.

'I didn't stab him. I've never stabbed anyone.'

Angua watched him for a minute, but she knew he was innocent. You learnt to tell, after a while.

'Thank you, kid.' Angua held out a hand and the boy eyed it warily. 'Come on, I don't bite.'

The boy shook it firmly. 'What for?'

'For telling me the truth.'

'That all?'

'You'd be surprised how much it means. Now, have you done anything to upset my parents recently?'

'I don't think so. Why?'

'Because they wouldn't send anyone they liked after a werewolf.'

'They said it was 'cos I showed initiative.

'I bet they did.' Angua noticed that the boy was looking at her strangely. 'What?'

'Are you pregnant, miss?'

'I prefer Captain.'

'Sorry. Are you pregnant, Captain?'

Angua smiled wanly. 'Yes, kind of.'

'Kind of?'

'It's complicated.'

The boy nodded, evidently deciding she didn't want to talk about it. 'Do you want me to tell them?'

Angua walked over to the wall and leaned against it, thinking. Finally, she spoke. 'No. Not yet.'

'Alright. What shall I tell them?'

'Tell them you tried to get me, but I ran off too quickly.' Her parents knew how fast she could run. They had tried to catch her many a time.

'Alright. And that copper...'

'Yes?'

The boy hung his head. 'I'm sorry. I know I didn't do anything, but I'm sorry.'

Angua heard the genuineness of his voice. 'Thank you,' she said quietly.

**P.S. If you know anything about Jack the Ripper, you might have seen some similarities between the suspects in that case and in this one. Also, keep an eye out for surnames. I've become a tiny bit obsessed with the Ripper...**


	20. Chapter 20

Vimes took Death's scythe and gently severed the blue cord. The spirit of Constable Coles drifted up into the air, and turned to stare at him.

'Alright, Mister Vimes?' he asked nonchalantly.

Vimes didn't bother answering. 'Why did they come after you?'

'The boy said he was out to get coppers. Some sort of revolution, apparently.'

'The boy?'

'Tall, thin, dark hair, right bastard. There was another boy standing behind him, maybe a bit younger. Fairer hair.'

'You got a good look at them, then?'

'Well, when there's a boot on your neck you tend to become a little more observant, just in case you get out of there. I mean, I am out of there, but...'

'No one's there to here you?'

'Pretty much.'

Vimes patted him on the shoulder. 'Alright, lad?'

'What's going to happen?' The boy looked slightly scared.

'Don't ask me, ask the bugger back there.' Vimes pointed over his shoulder to where Death was standing. 'He won't tell me. Maybe you'll have more luck.'

Death sighed. I HAVE TOLD YOU, I DON'T KNOW.

'Are you sure?' Coles asked. Vimes grinned, but Death looked annoyed.

COMPLETELY.

'Ah, well, better make the best of it.' Coles turned to Vimes, smiling. 'Thanks for everything, sir.'

'I put you under Angua. I've got no idea why you're thanking me.'

'Well, she's alright once you get to know her.'

Vimes glared at him. 'You know she'd have your guts for garters if she heard you say that.'

The boy shrugged. 'Well, it's not like she can here me, can she.'

'Fair enough, lad.' Vimes patted him on the shoulder again. 'Good luck.'

'Thanks, sir.'

Vimes watched Constable Coles proceed perfectly into infinity.

Death scoffed. COPPERS WON'T EVEN HURRY FOR THE AFTERLIFE.

'Well, if you'd seen the things we see you'll know it's hard enough believing in people, let alone something you can't see.'

FAIR ENOUGH. AND VIMES...

'Yes?'

THAT WON'T BE THE LAST COPPER YOU SEE.

* * *

Vetinari sighed as he read over the Watch reports for the last week. 'Come in, commander.'

Carrot walked dismally in, his breastplate dull. 'Good morning, sir.'

'Commander, sit down.' Gratefully, Carrot relaxed and sat in the chair, taking off his helmet. Vetinari could see the red mark of the helmet's rim around Carrot's forehead. The man looked tired.

'Commander, how many is it now?'

'Five.'

'All killed in the same way?'

'Bluntly, you mean, sir? A quick stab, and they scarper.'

'Yes. That's what I mean.' Vetinari put the papers down and surveyed Carrot. 'In the last two weeks, after the riot in the Shades preaching that the Watch should release their hold on the city, five watchmen have been killed. What are you going to do?'

'What can I do, sir?'

Vetinari looked at Carrot sympathetically. 'Have you increased police presence in the Shades?'

Carrot looked up, alarmed. 'Why would I do that? That's where they're being killed!'

'If you increase police presence, commander, it looks as if you're in control. Even if you're not.'

'So we're supposed to lie to them, sir?'

'No, captain. You're supposed to fool them.'

Carrot looked as if he was trying to figure that one out. 'So,' he said slowly, 'we're supposed to make them think that we won't give in.'

'Splendid, commander.'

'But won't that just give them more targets?'

'Well, commander, who would you kill? A defenceless copper, or one who's surrounded by other coppers, who could all arrest you and take you down to the Tanty to dance the sisal two-step?'

Carrot frowned. 'The what?'

'Being hanged, commander. And although many of their ancestors may have died by that noble method, most people have quite a strong attachment to the life they have now.'

Carrot nodded as if he understood. 'So you're saying I should draft more officers in for the Shades?'

'Oh no, commander. I am merely suggesting a solution.'

'So I should draft more officers in for the Shades.'

Vetinari could see he might need to assist this new commander. 'I would put your most experienced men in the Shades. Recruit Detritus, maybe Miss Littlebottom, I'm sure that they'll be willing to come back.'

Carrot's eyes narrowed. 'How can you be so sure, sir?'

'Let's just say that I know people, and I know that being a Watchman is something that never leaves you.' He glanced out at the city. 'Much, I suppose, like being Patrician,' he murmured.

'Sir?'

'Oh, nothing, nothing.' Vetinari turned back to Carrot. 'I would be most glad if you would follow my recommendations, commander.'

'Of course, sir. And sir...?'

'Yes, commander?'

Carrot blushed and fidgeted with the buckles on his breastplate. 'I'm sorry about...what I said. Last time.'

'All water under the bridge, commander. I understand your position completely.'

Carrot looked surprised. 'You do? Because I don't even understand my position at the moment.'

* * *

Every morning that she stayed at Mrs Cake's, Angua would wake up and look at her stomach in the mirror. There was never any change. Until today.

Sighing, she turned around, and noticed that her stomach had just started to poke out. She had always been thin, but over the past couple of weeks she had nearly stopped eating, what with the worry. She knew it wouldn't be doing the baby any good. Her stomach stuck out like a sore thumb now she came to look at it.

Three months. Well, it was about time.

She turned around and pulled her tunic over her head, just as she heard a knock on the door. 'Mrs Cake?'

Sally opened the door. 'It's me.'

'Come in.' Angua sat down on the bed, but Sally remained standing. 'Sit down.'

'Angua, when are you going to tell him?'

'Soon, soon,' Angua said breezily.

'Angua, you're taking this too lightly. You're pregnant, for gods' sakes, and two of them are dead.'

Angua felt her body grow cold. 'You think I don't know that?'

'Angua, you've got to tell him.'

'Says who?'

'Says me. And Sybil. And Cheery, now.'

'You told Cheery?' Angua said, aghast.

Sally raised her eyebrows. 'Why? Weren't you going to?'

'You know how she gossips.'

'Probably shouldn't have told me, then. And she agrees with us.'

'I bet she does,' Angua murmured.

Sally shot her a look. 'We're not doing this because we want to piss you off, or anything. We're doing this because we don't want you to get hurt.'

'Then let me mind my own business!'

'Yes, because you've managed it so well so far,' Sally replied sarcastically.

'Look, Sally, I'd just prefer not to think about it.'

Sally cocked her head to one side, impervious to Angua's glare. 'You do know how this works, don't you? The baby'll grow, and sooner or later you'll have to give birth to it. And I think Carrot might notice that.'

'Probably going to be sooner rather than later,' Angua said grimly. 'They can't stay in there forever.'

She saw Sally's facial expression change from one of sarcasm to one of worry. 'They?' she repeated. 'Angua, you don't want to let them go.'

'Well, they are mine.' Angua could feel her face grow hot.

'Angua, they're dead. You can't keep them.'

'I know, I know,' Angua protested. 'But how do I get them out?'

'Without damaging the other one? You can't.'

'Then they'll stay,' Angua said firmly.

'Angua-'

'No, Sally. They're staying.'


	21. Chapter 21

**Apologies for the delay, I've been very busy with work/exams etc, so might not be putting up chapters as often as I would like to. **

**This chapter sees the return of Reg Shoe, who I love, and had to include, because who doesn't like zombies?**

**Enjoy :) I'll probably have another chapter up over the weekend. **

'So, what's happening?' Reg asked Fred.

Fred frowned. 'Well, you know about the Shades?'

'What, the 'death to all Watchmen' speech? Yeah, I saw it.'

'Well, since then a load of kids have been stabbing watchmen. Just stab and scarper.'

'How many?'

'Five, so far. Five in two weeks.'

'Anyone I might know?'

Fred flicked through the book. 'When did you leave?'

'End of last year.'

'Right. Right. Did you know Corporal McKenzie?'

'Short, round fella? Begging your pardon, Fred.'

'Yeah, that's him,' Fred replied, oblivious to the hint. 'He was killed last Friday, funeral on the Sunday. Leggie's got a stack of coffins ready for us now.' Fred shuddered. 'Only coppers. His mam's been dead three years.'

Reg glanced at Fred, who was looking dismally at the list of names. 'Can I have a look at the beat schedule?'

Fred handed it over to him, and he examined it. 'So, you've got Detritus back, and me, and Buggy, and Wee Mad Arthur. I didn't even know those three had left.'

'Detritus went off with Ruby to look after Brick, and the other two went back to the Feegles.'

'Ye gods. And you're trying to turn them back into respectable coppers?'

'Well, respectable in the loosest sense of the word.' Fred grinned. 'We've never really been known for our respectability.'

'Fair enough.' Reg had just spotted something on the rota. 'Hey, Fred, you're not on here?'

Fred blushed and squirmed on his stool. 'Well, you know...'

'Don't give me any of that bull about Mrs Colon not wanting you to go out, because you know we'll just go round and see her again. You're scared, and you don't want to go out on patrol.'

Fred mumbled something under his breath.

'What was that, Fred?'

He raised his head, and Reg grinned lopsidedly at him. 'We'll just say that your fitness isn't what it was, and you can't run after any bloody criminals. How about that?'

Fred mumbled something which sounded suspiciously like 'alright'. Reg smiled. It was as if he had never been away. He handed the rota back. 'Thanks.'

'S'alright. And you're on patrol in the Shades in half and hour.'

Reg looked down at the paper and sighed. 'Thanks, Fred.'

'No worries. You're with Detritus, so just hide behind him.'

'Will do. I've had a bit of practice at doing that.'

'Haven't we all?'

* * *

'Sybil, you can't come on patrol with me,' Sally said.

'Why not?'

'Because at the moment, Sybil, people are coming up behind coppers and stabbing them. For me, that's not such a problem, but for you it's a bit of an issue.' Sybil felt her face fall, and Sally softened her tone. 'Look, Sybil, I'd love to have you, but it's not great news for the city if one of the richest women in the city is stabbed and the Watch gets it in the neck. Possibly literally.'

'But they're going after constables, new recruits, not people with some authority.'

'There's no difference in uniform. From the back we all look the same: me, Coles, McKenzie, Smith. We're all the same to them.'

'Do they attack women?'

'Well, it was Eliza Smith, so yep. But there are a smaller proportion of us, even now.'

Sybil sighed. 'I just feel useless, Sally. Like there's nothing for me to do.'

'How about you work down at the Lady Sybil?'

'What, the hospital?' Sybil frowned. 'What would I do there?'

'Well, you could work, and people who've been in fights down in the Shades usually go up there to get help. You could...glean information off of them.'

'What, like spying?'

'A bit. You'd be an informer, certainly.'

'Are you using spies? You could get a couple of lads who are about the same age as the revolutionaries to infiltrate their meetings.'

'We're doing that at the moment. Lance-Constable Hutchinson and Constable Black are in there at the moment.'

'Have they found anything out?'

Sally tapped her nose. 'Can't tell you that, Sybil, that'd be classified information.' She lowered her voice. 'Chiefly because we haven't heard from them in over a week.'

'You think they've defected?'

'Well, no one's seen them, so probably not. They could be locked up, or something.'

Sybil raised her eyebrows. 'Or something?' she asked.

'Look, we haven't got a clue what these people are doing. Or why they're doing it. All we know is that people are being killed.'

'And if you don't find this information?'

'Then people will die,' Sally said bluntly. 'And we can't afford that. Not at the moment.'

* * *

Nobby was patrolling the Shades. Well, he wasn't supposed to be, but he went there after he finished work for the night. He hadn't found anything.

Now, people in the Shades were avoiding him. Well, they were avoiding all coppers, didn't want to seen dead with one. And that would probably be literal. Five policemen dead, five men who wanted nothing more than a decent job and a place to stay, five people who just needed a bit of money. They weren't good coppers, not yet, but now they'd never be able to be any good at it.

Nobby turned a corner and caught sight of a teenage boy trying to surreptitiously hide the fact that he was wearing a red sash around his waist. He started running.

The boy evidently heard the footsteps running towards him, and started to sprint away from Nobby, but got stuck in the multitudes of people in the Shades. Nobby caught up with him and grabbed him round the neck.

'You're comin' with me, sonny.'

The boy struggled in his grip, and Nobby could feel his arm growing slack. 'Not a crime to protest, mister.'

Nobby could sense the people starting to stare at them. 'Might not be, son, but murder certainly is.'

'I ain't killed nobody!'

'Maybe not, but I'm willin' to bet that you know someone who 'as.'

'I don't know nuffin!'

Nobby's arm nearly snapped, but he clung on. The boy snorted in derision. 'You can't even 'old me!' he taunted.

Nobby lashed out with a punch surprisingly strong for a man of his diminutive size, and caught the boy a glancing blow on the cheek. The boy dropped, and only Nobby, someone who had been watching for weapons since the day he was born, saw a glint of silver. He ducked away as soon as the tip of the arrow came out of the boy's coat.

The boy stood taller now, and brandished the bow around. 'You wanna mess with me now, bastard?' It wasn't the most inspired of speeches, but the crowds of the Shades drew a breath in.

'You'll let that go, son?' Nobby asked quietly.

'And why wouldn't I?'

The boy never heard an answer. An arrow came soaring through the air and caught him straight in the chest. The force, as well as knocking the air out of his chest, made his finger pull the trigger.

Someone screamed.

Nobby was surprised, at first, that it wasn't him, but he had already started running towards where the arrow had come from. Towards Angua, who was darting round an alleyway.

Pray you get killed by an evil woman. A good one will kill you with hardly a word.

Angua was leaning against a wall and glaring at him. 'You had a knife!' she told him.

'Could you have killed 'im with a dagger?' Nobby asked, panting.

'Depends who he was threatening,' Angua answered brusquely. 'Come on.' She continued down the alleyway.

'That's a dead end,' Nobby told her.

'How do you know?'

'Because I've lived 'ere all my life, and I damn well hope that I continue living.'

Angua squinted down the alley. 'You're right.'

'Angua?' Nobby asked slowly.

Angua seemed so distracted, darting her eyes up and down the street, that she didn't notice that he hadn't included her rank. 'Yes?'

'Why did you kill him?'

Angua paused, and turned towards him. 'Because he was going to kill you?'

Nobby shook his head. 'No. You couldn't be sure of that?'

'Well, that's one of the reasons. Another is that if I hadn't to have killed him gods know what he would have gone on to do.'

'And another?'

'That Hutchinson, who's infiltrated them, has given me descriptions and iconographs of the ring leaders, and he was one of them. Nasty bastard, according to Jim.' Angua glanced at him, but he didn't make his face neutral in time. She sighed. 'Don't look at me like that, Nobby.'

'But you...you just killed him.'

'It's not that hard to do,' she said dryly.

'But...you don't seem to be worried. Or sad.'

'Can you see inside me, Nobby?' Angua asked bitterly. Nobby felt himself try to turn up his collar.

'No, miss.'

'Then don't try and presume that you know how I'm feeling.'

'Yes, miss.'

Angua evidently came to a decision that it was safe to move. 'Come on.'

Nobby followed her into the street.


	22. Chapter 22

**A whole Carrot/Angua chapter! (I love these two). Anyway, enjoy :)**

Angua slowly walked up the stairs of the Watch house, pausing for a moment to listen to what Nobby was telling Fred.

'...just shot him, easy as...'

'Well, it was to protect you,' she heard Fred say reasonably.

Nobby started mumbling, and Angua could only catch a couple of words. '...easy...no remorse or anythin'...dead...'

Angua felt like she had been kicked in the stomach, and turned around to keep walking. She reached the first floor and walked into Vimes...no, _Carrot's_ office. She opened the door slowly and saw him slumped on top of the desk. She ran towards him, fearing the worst, and started shaking him. He didn't move.

Angua ran to the window and looked down into the pond. There was no one there. No one impaled on the spikes, either. She stared blankly out of the window until she heard something move behind her.

'Angua?' she heard Carrot ask.

She span around and exhaled quickly, running towards him. He caught her and enclosed her in his arms, and she felt herself relax finally.

'Angua?'

She started to cry quietly against his chest and he released her, took her hand, and led her down the corridor to his bedroom. He pulled her onto the bed and wrapped her in a dusty blanket, which scratched her face. He let her cry.

Carrot lay down next to her and handed her a tissue after the worst of the crying was over. She smiled wanly and wiped her eyes, then looked at the tissue. It was crusted with blood.

'You've got a nasty cut on your forehead,' Carrot explained. 'What's going on?'

She managed to sit up, ignoring the pain in her stomach. It always came back when she was with Carrot, like it was a reminder. Or maybe it was the only time she ever let herself remember.

'There was a lad, a teenage boy, from those revolutionaries, who was aiming a crossbow at Nobby. I shot him.'

'How far away were you?'

'About fifty feet. Though I was on top of a building.'

'Where was this?'

'Top of Shamlegger Street.'

'What time?'

Angua blinked. 'Carrot, you're interrogating me. I've seen you do it.'

Carrot shook his head. 'Just trying to establish the facts.'

'And that's another one of your interrogatory phrases.' Angua felt her heart sink. 'You think I'm a murderer, don't you?'

'No!'

'Oh, it's fine,' Angua said bitterly. 'Everyone else does.'

Carrot's eyes flamed with anger. 'Who?'

'Well, Nobby, for a start. And I know for a fact that he's killed people.'

'Angua, if I thought you were a murderer I'd have to think of myself as a murderer. And I can't do that. If it's your duty to kill, is it murder?'

'But I feel like a murderer,' Angua said softly.

Carrot lifted her helmet off her hair and she lay against the headboard of the bed. 'You know,' he said conversationally, 'the first time I ever killed, it was Dr Cruces, and I stabbed him. There's a difference between stabbing and shooting, there really is. Either way, I could have thought of myself as a murderer then, but I didn't, because it was my duty. And he had just killed you,' he added as an afterthought.

Angua smiled ruefully. 'Yes, but you knew he had killed me, and you knew he was going to kill Vimes. I didn't know that.'

'Then why did you do it?'

Angua thought about it for a moment. 'Because he could have.'

'Exactly. And it's your duty to protect your fellow men.'

'Alright, Carrot, enough with the loyalty thing.' She sighed. 'But the thing is, I didn't even think about it. I just pulled the trigger.'

'If we were able to think about it we wouldn't do it.'

Angua stared at Carrot, surprised at the truth. 'Yes,' she said slowly. 'I suppose you're right. But it doesn't make it feel any better.'

'Then don't think about it. Just think about it as a statistic.'

Angua felt tears come to her eyes. 'Carrot, what the hell are you saying? Don't you remember Mister Vimes at all? He said that as soon as you start thinking of people as numbers, you start committing crimes. People lose all their value.'

Carrot stood up and grabbed something off his desk, and handed it to her. She read a list of names.

'Carrot...is this a list of people who've died?'

'No,' he said bitterly. 'It's a list of people who have died in the last month and it's been called suicide.'

Angua remembered that Carrot had always had a problem with the 'suicide' ruling. 'And you think it's wrong,' she stated.

'Of course it's wrong. But nobody's doing a bloody thing about it, are they?'

'Carrot, if everyone who died in Ankh-Morpork had their own investigation into how they died we would need about a thousand more police officers.'

Carrot span round and looked at her. 'Then get them!' he cried. 'Why not? We're supposed to be in control, aren't we?'

'Carrot, you won't have one thousand people who want to be in the Watch!' Angua screamed.

Carrot froze. 'What?'

'Carrot, there isn't anyone who _wants_ to be in the Watch! It's like an invitation from Death!'

'Then what the hell do I do?' Carrot yelled. 'Have you got some sort of miraculous answer, because I would just love it if you would tell me.'

They were standing at opposite ends of the room, facing each other, but Angua was closer to the door, and leaned on it as Carrot started walking towards it.

'Carrot.'

'What?' he snapped.

Angua breathed deeply. 'I've got something I need to tell you.'

'What? I hope to the gods it's a decent plan.'

Angua shifted onto one foot, and Carrot stopped moving. 'Angua? What is it?'

Angua felt as if she had stopped breathing, but managed to get at least some words out. 'Do you want the good news or the bad news?'

'How about both?' he asked quietly.

'Right.' She inhaled quickly. 'You're not allowed to say anything while I'm talking.'

'Why-?'

'Nope. Nothing.'

Carrot stayed silent.

'Carrot, I'm pregnant.' He began to open his mouth, and she shook her head. 'No. Not yet. Carrot, I was...there were three. Triplets. And I lost two.'

Carrot seemed to have stopped breathing. 'How?'

'How did I lose them? I don't-'

'No, no. How did you...?'

She almost laughed. 'You mean how did I get pregnant? The usual way, I hope.'

'But...we haven't...'

'I'm three months along, Carrot. When Mister Vimes died I already knew.'

'And you didn't tell me?'

'Carrot, I knew I was going to lose them.'

Carrot shook his head. 'No, no. You've lost two. There's still one left.'

Angua looked at him in amazement. But that was what Carrot would think. He would always look for the positives. Then she looked closer, and saw the tears running down his cheeks.

Slowly, he walked over to her and put a hand on her stomach. She moved it down slightly so that it was on top of the bump, and he smiled through the tears.

'When did the other two...go?' he asked.

'They died about three weeks ago, the night of my parents' party. But they're not...out.'

'You mean they're still in there?'

'Yes.'

Carrot kept his hand on her stomach and looked down into her eyes. 'What's supposed to happen?'

She shrugged. 'I've got no idea. Probably not this, though.'

He nodded. 'And the other one?'

'A girl. Still healthy.'

'Is she a werewolf?'

'I don't know. It's too soon to tell.'

Carrot walked her over to the bed and lay her down next to him. 'Are you feeling alright?'

'It hurts sometimes. But not as much as when it happened.'

'Angua, I'm so sorry.'

She looked up at him, surprised. 'What for? If anything, it's me who should be saying sorry.'

'No, I know how hard this was for you. But I wasn't there, and you needed me. I was too obsessed with this stupid job.' He looked around his bare room. 'It's not worth it.'

She stroked his cheek. 'Carrot, it is. Think of this baby, our baby, and what sort of a world she'll grow up in if there isn't a Watch. I don't want that for her.'

Carrot stroked her stomach, and smiled again. 'Any names?'

'Not yet. But Carrot, please, don't think of any. You don't know if she'll even live.'

'Do you think she'll live?'

Angua paused. 'I don't know. But don't get your hopes up, just in case.'

'But I want to,' Carrot said. 'I want to believe that she'll live. Angua,' he pulled her closer, 'I've wanted this for so long. Please don't take it away.'

'I've got no control of it,' she replied.

'But you don't know that she'll die, do you?'

'No, but-'

Carrot settled back. 'So don't tell yourself that she will.'

Angua felt herself want to relax, but heard a slam of a door. 'Oh, heck,' she said.


	23. Chapter 23

'Carrot!' they heard Colon call. 'Angua!'

Colon burst into the room, completely ignoring the fact that he might have intruded into a private moment. 'Carrot, we've got one!'

'Got one what?'

'We've got one of the bastards!'

'You mean one of the revolutionaries?' Angua asked dryly.

'Yep. He tried to stab Reg!'

Carrot rolled off the bed. 'How did that go for him?'

'Well, Reg was patrolling with Detritus, so not great, I think. But he's come round now. He's in the cells.'

'Thank you, Colon.' Carrot turned round to her. 'Do you want to come?'

'Course. Might need me to get anything out of him.'

Carrot nodded. 'Just nothing too vicious, please.' He laughed at her expression. 'Come on.'

They walked down the stairs, but could already hear the shouts of the prisoner. 'You alright, Reg?' Carrot asked.

'Could be better, sir,' Reg said, busy sewing up a gash in his chest. 'Well, at least I'm dead already. I just pity the poor bloke down there.'

'What do you mean?' Carrot asked, confused.

'Well, he's been knocked out by a troll, and now he's got to be interrogated by you and Angua.' Reg grinned. 'Wouldn't wish it on anyone.'

'Thanks, Reg,' Angua replied. 'But this is a new Watch, you realise. Not any of Winder's cronies.'

'Try telling him that.' Reg jerked his head towards the cells. 'He seems convinced that you're going to kill him or something. Poor bugger.'

* * *

Shorty Turner had not signed up for this.

It had been fun, he had been one of the guys. And their aim had been to overthrow the Watch, cos they didn't like them, cos they didn't do anything for them. And then the woman had been killed, and all hell had broken loose.

Matt actually got disappointed when a copper wasn't killed that day. He believed there needed to be consistency, there needed to be a statement large enough for the Watch to completely abandon the Shades. Instead, there were just more Watchmen. And these weren't human Watchmen, they were trolls, who would merely bend your dagger, they were dwarfs, who carried battle-axes, there were gnomes who could be up your trousers and punching your wossnames before you could get a swipe in.

And then, then he had seen a human, and he had lunged and caught him. Then the human turned around, and he was only technically human, and the troll had whacked him round the head.

And now he was here. He had heard that the Watch kept clean cells, but he hadn't expected the cup of tea as well.

And now the door was opening, and the fat guard was letting Commander Carrot and a fair haired woman through, who sat down on a couple of chairs in the corner of the cell.

'Shorty Turner, right?' Carrot said amicably.

Shorty nodded, and cracked his head on the ceiling beam*.

*Shorty Turner, as he was called, was six foot seven, and had been since he was twelve. Another example of the famous (or infamous) Ankh-Morpork sense of humour.

'And you tried to stab one of our officers, David.'

Shorty's eyes widened. He hadn't been called David since he was born.

He noticed the woman smiling. Well, all her teeth were visible. He found himself nodding.

'And why did you do that, David?' Carrot asked softly. Shorty didn't answer, but glanced at the woman, who he recognised. She glared at him, and Carrot put a hand on her arm.

Shorty looked at them. 'I ain't tellin' you nuffin.'

The woman leaned forward. 'Now that's where you're wrong, Shorty,' she said sweetly. 'Because at the moment you and your gang are going around and killing us. That sort of thing doesn't sit well with me, nor Carrot, despite his peaceful exterior. Now, what do you have to tell us?'

'Angua,' Carrot warned.

The woman raised her eyebrows. 'Whatever words you feel like saying, Shorty.'

Shorty stayed silent, a lump in his throat as he considered his prospects. He really hadn't signed up for this.

The woman, Angua, sighed, and looked at Carrot. 'Carrot, could you give us a minute?'

'What are you going to do?' Carrot asked warily.

'Carrot, I'm just going to talk to him. At the moment, I'm not sure that I'm in the right state to be ripping people's throats out.'

Shorty gulped. Carrot sighed. 'Fine, fine. And I wouldn't have thought that would stop you.'

'Carrot!'

'Fine, fine.' Carrot left the cell, and Angua leaned back on her chair.

'Whenever you're ready,' she said quietly.

Shorty tilted his head to one side as he watched her. She was the one they always talked about, wasn't she? The one who could get anyone to make a confession, just by smiling at them. He hadn't believed any of it, but now he found his mouth involuntarily forming the words.

'Matt Tabram told me to.'

'And why did you try and stab Reg?'

''Cos he was a copper.'

'And you're out to get coppers, right.' Angua sighed. 'Now, why oh why do you want to get us?'

'Matt said it was cos you couldn't be trusted. Said you never did anything for nobody.'

'And do you know who Matt Tabram's uncle was?'

Shorty shook his head.

'You know Commander Vimes? Yep. Well, he was Matt's uncle. And Mister Vimes did everything he could for that family, gave them everything they wanted, and his nephew goes and does this?' Angua scoffed angrily. 'That's gratitude for you.'

Shorty found his nerve. 'Well, what did he do for Matt? Maybe Matt didn't want nuffin from nobody.'

'But I bet his mum did. Cockbill Street, where you'll buy soap before you'll buy food, and you can't afford soap anyway. Matt might not have wanted the help, but his mum needed it. Well, she doesn't need it anymore, does she?'

Shorty shook his head.

'And you know who killed her?' Angua didn't even wait for an answer. 'It was Matt. Her own son shot her with a poisoned arrow. Her own son.'

'How do you know?'

'Because I saw it happen.'

'I didn't see you in the square,' Shorty commented.

Angua raised her eyebrows. 'Oh, so you were in the crowd, were you? And what did you see?'

Shorty internally kicked himself.

'You saw Matt Tabram disappear, and a couple of minutes later, not even that, his mother was dead. Anything about that strike you as suspicious?'

Shorty kept his mouth shut. Saying anything would be sticking his neck out, and he had a feeling he didn't want to be doing that.

'So, Shorty, you have a choice. When Carrot comes in you can tell him exactly what you know, or you can go back and lie to a murderer about where you've been. And if I know anything about murderers, it's that they can see through lies. They spend their whole lives telling them. Do you understand me?'

Shorty nodded.

'Good.' Angua walked over to the cell door. 'Carrot,' she called.

Carrot appeared and stared at Shorty. 'And?'

'He's going to tell us everything, aren't you? Angua said, standing behind Carrot.

'Angua, you didn't-?'

'Carrot, no. I told you the truth.'

Carrot turned back to Shorty. 'So, he said slowly. 'What do you know?'


	24. Chapter 24

**Right, I'm going to warn you now, this chapter nearly made me cry. If you're adverse to dark themes, look away now. A warning: this isn't going to be a happy chapter, if you hadn't guessed already. **

**P.S. Sorry about the mishap with Ch 22, but it's got the right document now. **

Angua followed the trails of the two sons up past the river, tracking the sickly sweet smell of the poison still caught on their shoes. She forced her nose to smell the acrid stench, despite its protests, and had managed not to pass out so far.

Shorty had been very informative. He had told them exactly where the rebels were based, exactly what they were going to do, well, to the extent of his knowledge, anyway. And now she had gone to the base, and found Matt Tabram, and had started following them. She hadn't got a clue where they were going, but she followed them anyway. Their figures were silhouetted against the dim street lights, and they weren't even bothering to be discreet, instead walking like they owned the place.

She had just gotten out of the Shades when she felt something rip.

At first, she ignored it, and carried on walking through the narrow alleyways after the boys, not thinking about the dull pain in her stomach. It had been there for a while. It was only when she started to be able to smell blood that she paused and looked behind her.

A trail of blood came from her. Her blood.

Quickly, she changed into human and nearly fainted when she saw the pool of blood that had formed around her. She fought the sickness down as she stared at the floor and finally worked out was going on.

She sprinted to Mossy Lawn's and hammered on the door.

'Lawn!' she screamed hoarsely. 'Doctor Lawn!'

She saw a light go on and heard footsteps walk slowly, so slowly, down the stairs. She hammered louder, and finally heard him start to run.

The door swung open. 'What the-Angua?'

'Please,' she gasped.

'Angua, what's wrong? Why are you...' His eyes caught sight of the pool of blood and he grabbed hold of her shoulders before she passed out. 'Come on,' he urged, dragging her in.

She slumped on the floor and he picked her up, marvelling at her lightness. She had been looking gaunt for weeks.

He lay her on the bed and she doubled up, gasping. 'Two are dead,' she gasped. 'Have been for weeks.'

'Why didn't you come and tell me?'

'Because you didn't know I was pregnant!' she screamed, arching her back.

'Why did you hide it?'

'Because they were fucking DEAD, Lawn!'

'Alright, alright, calm down. You said two were definitely dead?'

'There's another. I don't know what's happened to her.'

'Okay, okay. Breathe deeply.'

The look he got could have sliced through him if Angua hadn't been lying on a bed. 'What else am I going to be doing?'

He bustled round to the opposite side of the bed to try and avoid her glare. 'Right, Angua, how far along are you?'

'Three months.'

'And no one's noticed?'

'They're dead, Lawn. Not exactly growing. I had to tell Carrot, and he's...'

'Right. Right. So Carrot knows.'

'I told him a couple of hours ago.' Another wave of pain gripped her and she curled up in a ball. 'For gods' sakes, Lawn, get them out of me!'

'Just lie still a minute,' he soothed her, picking up a syringe.

'What the hell is that?'

'A painkiller,' Lawn lied.

'Thank gods, Lawn. Get it in me!' She curled up in a ball again.

Forcefully, he stabbed the needle right into her arm and she screamed, then slumped back.

'What the hell was that for?' Angua yelled.

'It needed to go in,' he replied calmly, counting on his fingers.

'Lawn? What are you doing?' Angua tried to move her arms, but found them as heavy as lead. 'Lawn? What the hell's going on.'

Lawn continued to count on his fingers and she tried to move a foot to kick him, but found she couldn't move a thing. Tingly numbness was overtaking her. 'Lawn!'

He turned round and looked confusedly at her. 'I don't understand. It should have worked.'

Angua tried to scream, but no sound came out. Something was pressing against her chest and restricting her breathing.

She felt her stomach convulse and tried to groan as she felt the life seeping out of her.

'Lawn!' she managed to gasp.

He walked over to her with clinical precision and picked up her arm, taking her pulse. After a moment, he spoke. 'Shouldn't be long now.'

What shouldn't? Angua thought.

Just after she had thought it, the world started to fall away and she was dragged into the blackness that always existed just behind her thoughts. She felt something slipping out of her and screamed inwardly, but nothing stopped her being pulled further and further into the dark.

The fast uppercut of unconsciousness claimed her.

* * *

'I don't like this,' Colon muttered. 'I don't like this at all.'

He watched Carrot leading the prisoner out of the cell, and walked up to him. 'Sir.'

'Just a minute, Colon.' Carrot patted the prisoner on the shoulder amicably. 'Off you go, then.'

The boy scarpered and Colon stared after him. 'Lad, what the hell are you doing?'

'What?'

'Haven't you seen it?'

'Seen what?'

Colon took Carrot into the canteen and gestured outside. 'That.'

Outside, there were flames. People were shouting and screaming, throwing stones at one another. In between the masses, Colon could see the glint of breastplates.

'What the hell is going on, Colon?' Carrot said icily. 'And don't give me any ers, or ums, because I've had some life-changing news today and I hope you don't receive some life-ending news.'

'Well, it's all got a bit political, sir.'

'And what do you mean by that, sergeant?'

'I mean that the revolutionaries have tried to attack us, and then we went outside, like we did last time...'

'Last time?'

'Glorious revolution, sir. Keel told us to go outside and show 'em that we're human. But then we went outside and we saw a bunch of people who weren't revolutionaries.'

Carrot tried to clear his head. 'So, who were they?'

'People who support us, sir. Said they don't want no harm to come to us.'

'Not revolutionaries?'

'No, sir.'

'Then why are they here?'

'Well, some of the people who were in the revolutionaries deserted, and they told the civilians what they were planning. And they were planning stuff for today.'

'Why today?'

'Do you know what the date is, sir?'

Carrot looked at the calendar on the wall. 'The twenty-fifth of May.'

'And?' Colon prompted.

Carrot's eyes widened. 'Oh. That.'

'And then the revolutionaries arrived, sir, and all hell broke loose. The people on our side were fighting them, and we were just standing there looking awkward.'

'And what's happening now?'

'Well, that's where it get's complicated.'

'How?'

'Because we're not really sure, sir.'

* * *

Shorty ran towards the crowd. 'Hey!' he screamed.

A couple of Watchmen turned around at his cry. 'Hey, you're the guy we arrested. You stabbed me.'

'Look, I'm sorry,' Shorty gasped. 'But I need to tell you something. I know what's going to happen.'

'Then why didn't you tell the Commander? Why didn't you tell Angua?'

'Because I didn't even know if it was true! I'd just heard it through the grapevine!'

'And why weren't you told?' the zombie asked. 'If you were so high up, and all.'

Shorty hung his head.

'Listen, I know revolutionaries. I used to be one. Just tell us what you know.'

'They'll attack today, at midnight. Drama, and everythin'. But they won't attack Pseudopolis Yard. They'll attack the other watch houses first - Dimwell, Dolly Sisters, Chittling Street.'

'Like the other revolution?'

'Yeah. Just the same. 'Cept this time, they're just attacking the Watch, not the Patrician.'

'And what are they going to do up at the stations?'

'I don't know. Something bad, probably.'

The zombie turned to the man behind him. 'Sergeant Visit, go back to Pseudopolis Yard. Tell them everything.'

The man nodded and ran off. The zombie turned back to Shorty. 'Now, what else are you going to do?'

Shorty shook his head. 'I don't know.'

'You're going to come with me, and Detritus'll swear you in. He's the troll who knocked you out earlier, it's like you're best friends already.'

Shorty walked dismally back to the watch house, kicking himself.

* * *

Carrot watched the crowd outside the window and started laughing.

'What are you doing, sir?' Colon enquired.

'Oh nothing, sergeant. Just thinking of something Angua said.'

'And what was that, sir?'

'She said we wouldn't get anyone who supported the Watch.'

'She's always had a cynical mind. Always reminded me of Vimes, she did.'

Carrot smiled. 'Yes, I guess so.'

He turned round to face the man who had just come into the room. 'Visit?'

'We've got your man back, sir. Shorty. He's told us everything.'

'About what?'

Another man came running into the room. 'Captain Carrot?'

Carrot turned round. 'Ah, George Lucas. And that's commander.'

'It's Angua, sir!'

Carrot's eyebrows furrowed. 'What about her?'

'She's at Lawn's place. Doctor Lawn's.'

'Why?'

'Dunno. Please, just come.'

Carrot looked at the two men, the city or Angua, and was torn. But then he started to think clearly, and the choice was made simple.

He started running. 'Colon, deal with this!' he shouted behind him.

'Yessir!'

* * *

After a lifetime of darkness, Angua surfaced, and the pain hit her.

She scrunched up her eyes like a child to keep out the light, and tried to burrow under the bedclothes, but couldn't move for the pain. She whimpered aimlessly.

After what felt like an aeon, she heard footsteps come into the room and recognised Lawn from the worried smell. He leant over her, and, when noticing she was awake, tried to press a glass of water to her lips. She turned it away.

'Come on, Angua,' he said softly.

Obligingly, she drank, and felt the cool water giving her some strength back.

Lawn shuffled. 'Angua, I hope you don't mind but I told Carrot to come. You were screaming for him.'

'I was? Has he seen me?'

'No, not yet. The operation was happening, and I didn't want him to see that.' Lawn shuddered. 'No one should have to see that.'

Seeing Angua's repulsed face he tried to soothe her. 'It's alright, Angua, they're out.'

'And the other?'

'For the time being, she's alive, but I don't think she'll last.'

Angua nodded, not taking any of it in. 'Can Carrot come in now?'

'If you want him to. I thought you might be a little...'

For a moment, Angua's spirit came back. 'Be a little what?' she said harshly.

Lawn cowered. 'I'll bring him in.'

Angua reached over to the glass of water, wincing in pain, but tried to at least moisten her throat so she could talk. It felt like sandpaper, and every breath hurt her ribs.

Carrot tentatively entered, a hard thing to do when you're six foot six, and stood just inside the doorway. 'Can I come in?'

'Sure.'

He walked softly over to the bed. 'Budge over,' he joked.

Angua tried to move herself over onto the other side of the mattress, but the pain in her stomach made her gasp. Gently, Carrot picked her up and gently rested her down, climbing in beside her.

'Thanks.'

Carrot propped her up so that she was sitting with her back against the headboard. He then gently slipped an arm around her and pulled her towards him.

'Carrot, what's happening outside?' Angua had just started to hear the screaming outside the window.

Carrot looked uncomfortable. 'It's nothing you need to be worried about.'

'Yes it is. Carrot, what's going on?'

'Well, the revolutionaries have attacked. Well, sort of attacked.'

Angua tried to swing herself out of bed, but collapsed with the pain. Carrot pulled her up back on the bed, and held back her hair as she vomited.

'I've got to go,' she told him.

'No. You don't.' He rested her head back on the headboard. 'I knew you would say that, so I came.'

'So you left the city for me?' Angua asked weakly.

'Yes. Of course I did.'

'Carrot, you've got to go back. They need you.'

'But you need me.'

'Not as much as they do. And I'm fine, I'm fine.'

'No, you're not.' He stroked the sweat off her forehead. 'I'm going to call Lawn.'

'Why?'

'Because you're bleeding again.'

Angua passed out again.


	25. Chapter 25

**Please review/whatever :)**

'Just repeat this after me,' Reg said calmly, handing Shorty a badge.

'I thought Detritus would swear me in.'

'He's not ever so great with the oath. You ready?'

'What, to abandon my side for the enemy? Sure.'

'Well, which would you rather have as your enemy? The pitiful revolutionaries, or the Watch?'

Shorty stayed silent.

'Right then. Repeat after me: I comma square bracket recruit's name square bracket comma do solemnly swear by square bracket recruit's deity of choice square bracket to uphold the Laws and Ordinances of the city of Ankh-Morpork comma serve the public trust and defend the subject of His stroke Her bracket delete whichever is inappropriate bracket Majesty bracket name of reigning monarch bracket without fear comma favour comma or thought of personal safety semi-colon to pursue evildoers and protect the innocent comma laying down my life if necessary in the course of said duty so help me bracket aforesaid deity bracket full stop Gods Save The King stroke Queen bracket delete whichever is inappropriate bracket full stop.'

Reg handed him the Shilling, then quickly snatched it back before Shorty could grab it. 'You're quick, lad,' he said gruffly, as if awarding him a point for trying.

Shorty looked down at himself, at his breastplate, at his boots, at his badge, and felt like a traitor. But he was a traitor of the losing side.

In the heat of battle, those people are rarely remembered.

* * *

Colon breathed deeply, tried to remember, and stepped out.

Ye gods, it only felt like ten minutes since he was doing this for Keel and the lilac boys. And nothing much had changed.

Or so he thought.

This time, he walked out to cheers.

Fred Colon had never been cheered in his life, especially not at his wedding. He was one of those people who you felt embarrassed to be clapping about, let alone screaming for. But now people seemed to like him, they were happy to see him. He didn't know what was going on.

Ping handed him a megaphone, and pushed him slowly towards the crowd. Hands shaking, he managed to raise the megaphone up to his mouth.

'Er, hello?' he asked tentatively.

The crowd went silent.

'Um, we were just wondering, er, if...' He tailed off.

Reg Shoe sighed behind him. 'Colon,' he said quietly. 'I think you'd better give that to me.'

Fred hastily handed it over and withdrew to the sidelines. He wasn't cut out for the whole revolutionary thing.

Reg, it seemed, was, and in the forty years since the Glorious Revolution none of the spark had left him. He had, however, become a little less flamboyant in his speech.

'Oi!' he shouted as the people started talking again.

They went silent.

'Right, this is what we need to do. Split yourself into eight groups, same size*. And do it sharpish!'

Nine daughter crowds were duly created, and Reg gulped. It didn't look as if they had any supporters when they were split up.

He breathed deeply. 'Right then, comrades**. I want your group up at Dolly Sisters, no don't start moving yet. Thank you. Right, you're up at Chittling Street.' There was a groan from the group. 'I know, sorry, lads, but you're the group with the most edged weapons.' Seeing as this passed for a compliment in Ankh-Morpork, the group relaxed. 'You lot, up at Treacle Mine Road. You're the biggest group, and for the sake of tradition they'll attack there first. You lot, yes, the odd ones, you're down at Dimwell Street. You lot, you're at Nap Hill, but they'll be no napping please. You're up at Broad Way, you're at Leastgate. You're at Long Way, and you buggers have got the pleasure of staying with us here.'

Reg surveyed the crowds critically. 'Right then,' he said loudly. 'The revolutionaries will attack at midnight, and they'll attack the individual watch houses first. And you support the Watch, but they hate us, because they think the law doesn't apply to them. And you see, there, that's where they're wrong. Because we can't be equal without an equal law.'

Some people in the crowd were nodding. Then one shouted up 'Where's Captain Carrot.'

Carrot appeared from the direction of the Shades. 'Here,' he said quietly.

Colon turned to look at the man. 'Christ, lad, you look like you've been to hell and back.'

Carrot raised his hands, which were covered with blood. 'Just give me a minute, sergeant,' he said distantly. Slowly, he walked over to the fountain in the middle of the square and started washing his hands in the water. The crowd stared at him, but he was impervious to it all.

Finally, he stood up, wiped his hands on the front of his breastplate, and gestured to Reg to give him the megaphone. He raised it to his lips, and Colon noticed his arms shaking with the effort.

'Thank you,' he told them quietly. 'Thank you.'

Slowly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper. 'Captain Angua wrote this,' he said conversationally. 'She's at Doctor Lawn's place because two of our children have just been lost.' The crowd gasped, but Carrot carried straight on. 'But one's alive, still. A little girl. And I sure as heck don't want my little girl growing up in a city where someone'll stab her as soon as look at her, and'll never be prosecuted for it.'

He unfolded the piece of paper. 'It says here: Go to them. They need you more than I do. But that's not necessarily true. You may need me, but I need you a lot more than you think. Because without support, what's a Watch but a group of bumbling idiots.' His mouth twitched as he glanced at Colon. 'Some of you may be thinking that that's what we've got at the moment, but if you do then join the revolutionaries. It's a free world, after all. But I'm reckoning you know how important we are, and we know how important you are.'

He seemed to pull himself together. 'I'm sure Reg has given you instructions, but I'd just like to say one more thing. Remember Mister Vimes, and what he did, and who he did it for. He did it for you, and no one can ever say anything different.'

He handed the megaphone to Reg, and walked back into Pseudopolis Yard.

Reg watched him, then turned back to the people.

'Alright, lads,' he shouted. 'Off you go!'

* * *

*This tried and tested method by sport teachers across the world always ends up with the inevitable group of people who are too old, to slow, too bloody minded or too unpopular to be accepted into any of the groups. Reg Shoe knew this, and knew that there were nine watch houses. And one of the captains at the Dimwell Street watch house had been pissing him off recently.


	26. Chapter 26

Angua glanced out of the window and saw what looked like troops marching down the street. She managed to stand up without too much pain and walked over to the front door of Lawn's surgery, then peered out of the small glass panel, always helpful to the doctor who deals with...suspicious...patients.

'Angua?' she heard Lawn say behind her.

She turned round and winced. 'Yes?'

'A: you should be in bed. B: there's someone to see you.'

'Who?'

'Nobby Nobbs.'

Angua walked unsteadily back over to the bed and lay down on it. 'What does he want?'

'Apparently Carrot sent him. He wouldn't say why.'

Angua sighed. 'Alright. Send him in.'

Lawn went into the corridor and returned with Nobby, who looked sheepishly at the floor.

'It'a okay, Nobby,' Angua told him quietly.

'I'm sorry, miss.'

'Don't worry about it, Nobby. Please don't. Just...don't think of me as a murderer, whatever you do.'

'Alright, miss. Carrot sent me here.'

'I know. Why?'

'He wanted to give you this.' Nobby handed over a grubby piece of paper. 'Here.'

'Nobby, if you've read my letters you might fold it up again nicely afterwards.'

'Sorry, miss.'

Angua opened the letter and frowned at the spelling mistakes, but she had learned to interpret Carrot's creative Morporkian.

'_I need you. Please look at this.'_

Angua scanned down a list of directions and instructions, and smiled. She drew a couple of arrows, added a few notes. 'Nobby, can you pass me some paper?'

Nobby silently handed her a sheet, and she placed it on the table next to her. She wrote out the orders, correcting the spelling as she went through, and changed a couple round. She wrote the initials of officers around the orders, making sure at least one sergeant and three corporals were in each group, and made sure to keep a variety of species in each group. She made sure to put a lot of trolls around the Shades. No one even tries to attack a troll.

Then she remembered the piece of paper that she had found in Vimes's desk draw, all those years ago. She copied it down as best she could from memory, being able to guarantee that Carrot wouldn't have peeked in any of his boss's drawers.

Finally, she handed the piece of paper back to Nobby, now covered with her spiky handwriting. 'Take this back to Carrot,' she told him. 'You can look at it, and you can sigh when you see I've put you in the Shades.'

'Why me, miss?' Nobby complained.

'Because you can sense the mood of a crowd. That's helpful. And I reckon they'll be quite a few crowds.' Also so that when you run away you'll know where to go.

'Alright, miss. And, Angua...'

'Yes, Nobby?'

Nobby looked concernedly down at her. 'Are you alright?'

Angua pushed her hair away from her face absently and sighed. 'I'll do, Nobby. I'll live.'

'Um...Carrot said you was pregnant...'

'Yes, Nobby.'

'Is the baby going to be alright?'

Angua rested a hand on her stomach. 'Probably. Maybe. I don't know, to be honest.'

Nobby shuffled again. 'I hope she is, miss.'

Angua nodded, smiling faintly. 'Thank you, Nobby.'

He had been gone for about five minutes before she started wondering how he knew it was a girl.

* * *

'Ere, Carrot!'

Nobby handed the piece of paper to Carrot, who read it and smiled.

'Nobby, get these groups organised.' He handed him back the letter.

'Why me?'

'Because they'll listen to you.'

'Oh. Thanks, sir.'

Carrot turned around to Detritus. 'Can you get anymore troll recruits?'

'Yep. Dere's my lad Brick, an' his mates. Dere's Calcite too. An' I know a coupla dwarfs who're interested.'

'Can you recruit them in?'

'Yep. Will I get paid extra for dis?'

Carrot sighed. Detritus was always brighter at night. 'Yes, Detritus.'

Detritus's teeth gleamed in the moonlight. 'Dat's alright den. I'll be off.'

'Take them down to the Shades.'

'Sure fing. Want me to check on Angua?'

Carrot ruffled his hand through his hair absent mindedly. 'No, it's alright. Just get as many as you can.'

* * *

The mobs attacked.

Not all at once, though. That was where they went wrong.

Cheery Littlebottom and Reg Shoe were standing on the roof of Chittling Street station, wobbling precariously.

'Why couldn't Detritus've come up?' Cheery muttered.

'He'll have broken through the roof, Cheery,' Reg replied, carefully balancing a tube and a pair of clacks on the chimney.

Cheery looked warily. 'Are you sure you're okay to set off fireworks. I mean, fire and...you...'

'Should be alright,' Reg said breezily. He managed to get it to balance and turned around, looking at the mobs below. The confused mobs.

From above, it was fairly easy to see who was on which side. The rebels tended to bunch together, with a few of the better armed men on the outside. The supporters, mostly trolls down here, surrounded them.

The rebels wanted to fight, they really did. They wanted to die for what they believed in, they wanted to overthrow the Watch. But they didn't want to overthrow their mates.

Getting the grannies in was another trick that the lilac lads had remembered. They were more vicious than the trolls.

'Reg?' Cheery asked.

Reg turned round and knelt on the roof tiles. 'Duck,' he told her.

'I need to?' Cheery asked, eyebrows raised.

'Would you risk it?'

Cheery kneeled down and watched as Reg inched his way up to the tube. She could see the small flame of the match staying absolutely still in the balmy summer's air.

'Alright?' he asked quietly.

'Yep.'

Reg leant forward, the match in his hand.

* * *

Colon pointed to the sky. 'There. Chittling Street.'

Carrot was assembling the new recruits. 'Any message?'

Colon squinted at the clacks. 'Says that they're winning. Grannies working. Most scarpered.'

'The grannies or the rebels?'

'The rebels, I think. Oh, and they say they've got a few prisoners.'

'Well, Reg knows what to do,' Carrot replied. He turned back to the recruits and nodded to them. 'Off you go.'

The mass of trolls started walking towards the Shades.

'What are you planning, Carrot?'

Carrot's eye twitched. 'Me? I'm planning nothing.'

Colon sighed. He could read the new commander like a book. 'What's Angua planning, then?'

Carrot handed a sheet of paper to him, and Colon read it slowly. Then he grinned.

'The wonders of a multicultural society, sergeant.'

Colon nodded. 'You think it'll work?'

'I'm sure of it.'

**Please review :)**


	27. Chapter 27

'How did she know that?' Vimes said incredulously, staring down at Angua. 'That sheet was in my drawer with the whiskey!'

SHE OFTEN CHECKED ON YOU. JUST TO MAKE SURE THAT YOU WEREN'T SLIPPING BACK INTO...OLD HABITS.

'Yeah, but why would she read my paperwork?'

If Death had eyebrows he would have raised them. It was a part of the human body that he had always missed. ONE THING THAT I HAVE OBSERVED ABOUT ORGANISATIONS IS THAT SOMEONE WILL _ALWAYS_ LOOK AT THE BOSS'S PAPERWORK. AND ALSO, ANGUA IS IN LOVE WITH CARROT. OPPOSITES ATTRACT.

'So, how much did she read?'

OF THAT SHEET? ALL OF IT.

'No, of my paperwork.'

SHE HAD A RULE. ONLY THE THINGS IN THAT BOTTLE DRAWER.

'It was not a bottle drawer!'

I APOLOGISE. A DRAWER WITH A BOTTLE IN, THEN.

'What other stuff did she read?'

WHAT DID YOU PUT IN THERE? SHE CHECKED REGULARLY.

'Well, there was the list for pensions. And the important stuff about some of my employees. And...' Vimes's eyes widened.

YES?

'There was something I took from that coat of arms place...years ago, it was. I had forgotten about it. It was her and Carrot's family tree, and the...descendants.'

PROBABILITY OF EACH SPECIES, YOU MEAN.

'Yeah. There was about a fifty per cent chance of it being some sort of wolfman, like that Mrs Cake's daughter.'

Death visibly shuddered at the mention of Evadne Cake.

'And there was a forty per cent chance they'd be a werewolf, like Angua, but there might be a little bit more human added in, despite what Carrot might try to say. And then there was a ten per cent chance that the kid'd be normal.'

Death tried to raise his eyebrows again. DID IT SAY 'NORMAL' ON THE DOCUMENT.

'I don't think so, I think it was just 'human'. But I'd made some annotations...'

AND SHE MIGHT HAVE TAKEN THEM TO HEART?

'I don't know. She and Carrot weren't even planning children by that point.'

HOW DO YOU KNOW?

'What?'

HOW DO YOU KNOW WHAT THEY WERE PLANNING?

Vimes floundered slightly. 'Well...they had only been going out for a few years, and they didn't seem...they didn't seem to want children...'

HAVE THEY EVER SEEMED LIKE THEY WERE PLANNING CHILDREN?

'Well, not really. They never said anything about it.'

HOW ABOUT TO EACH OTHER?

'You probably know that better than I do,' Vimes snapped.

YOU WOULD BE SURPRISED. BUT I DID HEAR SOMETHING...

'What?'

WELL, YOU KNOW WOLFGANG? Death asked awkwardly.

'How could I forget?'

HE SAID SOMETHING ABOUT ANGUA WHEN HE WAS STILL SCREAMING AT HER, WHEN THEY WERE FIGHTING. YOU WOULDN'T HAVE HEARD IT.

'How come?'

IT WAS IN WOLF. Death sighed. IT IS A SIMPLISTIC LANGUAGE, BUT DEFINITELY ONE THAT MAKES A POINT. WOLFGANG WAS MOCKING ANGUA BECAUSE OF HER LOVE FOR CARROT. MOCKING HER BECAUSE FOR HER WHOLE LIFE SHE HAD SWORN NOT TO EVER HAVE CHILDREN, SO THAT NO ONE ELSE SHOULD HAVE TO SUFFER AS A WEREWOLF, AND NOW SHE DID WANT THEM. WANTED THEM BADLY, AS FAR AS I COULD SEE. CARROT SEEMED THE SAME.

'How could you tell?'

I CAN HEAR THE UNSPOKEN WORDS.

Vimes did a quick calculation. 'So they've been trying for nearly fifteen years?'

ABOUT THAT.

'Why didn't they give up?'

SOMETIMES PEOPLE DON'T. SOMETIMES THEY MAKE A PROMISE. BUT MAYBE THEY DID GIVE UP, AND THAT'S WHY SHE DIDN'T TELL HIM. Death shrugged. IT'S JUST A THEORY.

* * *

'You any better, Angua? And this time I want the truth.

Angua smiled into Carrot's shoulder. 'I've told you, I could be better, I was worse. Dr Lawn says it's stopped bleeding now.'

'And she...?'

'She's fine, Carrot.' She kissed him lightly on the cheek. 'Come on, you've got better things to worry about than me.'

'No I haven't.' Carrot objected.

'I'll be alright here, you know.' Angua glanced over at Mossy Lawn, trying to surreptitiously hide behind a filing cabinet and failing. 'I'm in the best of care here, after all,' she said pointedly.

Lawn slunk out of the room.

Angua turned back to Carrot. 'Look, you're worried, I'm worried. But there's nothing either of us can do for her. All you can do is try to make sure that her many, many godparents'll stay alive for the next six months. And you can't do that in here.'

Carrot nodded absent-mindedly. 'How did you know what to do?'

Angua sighed. 'I looked at some of Vimes's documents. He had planned it all; who to put where, what to do, all of that. They're his plans.'

'Why would he do that?'

'Well, it was just after Young Sam was born. People...change. He just wanted Sam to grow up safe.'

'And will we change?'

Angua shrugged. 'Who knows. I think you have already, though.'

'How do you mean?'

'Before, you knew what came first. Personal isn't the same as important, and all of that. But now it's changed.' Angua looked up at Carrot's crestfallen face. 'I never took it personally, you know. Well, I might have done to begin with, but then I just accepted it. In the same way you accepted me.'

Carrot nodded. 'It just...makes sense now, I suppose.'

'I know.' Angua sighed and looked down at her stomach.

They heard a knock on the door and Colon burst in. 'Treacle Mine and Dimwell, sir.'

Carrot glanced at Angua, who nodded. He stood up, stroked her hair once, and went out with Colon.

Angua glared down at her stomach. 'You'd better live, you hear me?' she told it firmly.


	28. Chapter 28

Buggy Swires circled around the city, the buzzard being carried softly by the air currents.

He could see the whole of the plan from up here. He chuckled as he realised what was going on.

Below him, a regiment of trolls was walking down Cable Street, three abreast. He could see the hulking figure of Detritus at the front, leading them on.

As the trolls reached the beginnings of the Shades they split up into two lines, one going clockwise around the Shades, the other anticlockwise. It took ten minutes or so for a ring of trolls to have completely surrounded the Shades.

Buggy grinned, and swooped closer.

* * *

'Right, Brick, dis here, dis is a barricade. Remember dat. Well, dis is gonna be a barricade soon enough. And what's de point of a barricade, lad?'

'To keep dose people in?' Brick asked.

'Not quite. You see, dese people are fine.' Detritus gestured out towards the rest of the city, where screams could be heard at regular intervals. 'Dose people out dere, the ones who're attackin' our lads, they're de ones we're keepin' out.'

'But don't dey live in here?'

'Yes, lad, and if we let them go back in they'll threaten people to join 'em. Dis way, dey can't hide from us.'

'But aren't dere gaps?'

'Dere's fifty odd undercover Watchmen in dere at the moment, most around dat main square where der woman was killed. Carrot says she'll be der first in a long line of deaths if we don't stand 'ere.'

'So what are we gonna do here?'

Detritus leaned up against a wall, which creaked ominously. 'We wait.'

* * *

It was going well, Carrot thought, according to the clacks. The public were battering off the rebels from each station, with the ringleaders arrested and taken down to the cells, where they were interrogated and the information passed, via the clacks, to the places which were going to be attacked next.

It was all running like clockwork.

Carrot was standing on top of a barricade at the end of Pseudopolis Yard, looking over at the city. It was a pity that his view was blocked by the opera house.

Sighing, he tried to shift slightly so that he could see better, but the barricade wobbled precariously. Enthusiastic though they were, his group weren't going to be the next prize architects. But at least there was a barricade.

It was all quiet up here. From what he had heard about the Glorious Revolution, that was something to be wary of.

The firework went off at Cable Street. They were getting closer.

Carrot climbed back down the barricade and turned to face his crowd. 'Cable Street,' he told them.

Some of the older ones, the ones who remembered, shuddered.

Carrot turned back round to the barricade as he heard someone shout from behind it. 'Who's there?' he shouted back.

'Sybil.'

Carrot pushed a few tables and chairs out of the way and Sybil climbed through the gap. She grinned up at him.

'Got something you should probably know,' she told him.

He gestured to the watch house. 'Come on in. Someone call me if anything happens.'

There was a chorus of 'aye's and Carrot led Sybil inside. 'Yes?' he asked.

'You know I'm up at the Lady Sybil's?'

Carrot nodded.

'Well, one of the rebels came in. Said his name was Charlie Tabram. He says he'll talk, but only to Angua.'

'How did he know Angua?'

'Apparently Nobby went up to the Tabrams a lot, and Angua always kept an eye on him. Then Charlie was beaten up by his brother one time, and Angua helped him. Bandages and the like.'

'Do you think he would talk to me?'

'I doubt it. He made it very clear that he wanted to talk to Angua. Well, he called her the blonde copper who wears a dress sometimes and doesn't like blood, so I presume it's her.'

'Sounds like her. It's just that Angua can't really come at the moment.'

Sybil's eyes narrowed. 'Why not?'

'Well, did you know she was pregnant?'

Sybil nodded.

'She lost two of them.'

Sybil had to grab onto the mantelpiece. 'How?'

Carrot shrugged. 'Who knows? But she's not in the best of states.'

'Where is she?'

'At Dr Lawn's. And how did you know?'

'I guessed. And she said...something. Something about losing them. She said she couldn't tell you because she knew what was going to happen. I just didn't expect this.'

Carrot nodded brusquely, as if he didn't want to talk about it anymore. And he really, really didn't want to tell anyone else about it. His head was already screaming at him for not being with her.

'Can she walk?'

'We can have a go, I suppose. If he'll only talk to her. Could he go to Lawn's place?'

'Doubt it. He wouldn't risk being seen.'

'Well, we can have a go.' Carrot walked out of the door quickly and led Sybil into the crowd of people.

'Alright, everyone?' he asked kindly.

'Aye!' they chorused back.

'And I reckon you know what to do, yes?'

The crowd chuckled.

'Good lads.' The burly workmen carrying huge knives and pitchforks looked down and shuffled, like a child who had just been given praise.

'Right, men, me and Sybil have some urgent business to get on with regarding the rebels, and we need you to stay here and man the barricades. Will that be alright?'

The crowd nodded. Colon stepped forward. 'Want me to organise them?'

'Please. And Colon, please remember that you're a watchman, and not one of the crowd. You're in charge, there'll be no kicking off your boots and having a smoke with your mates.'

'Alright, Carrot.' Colon looked sheepish.

'Good man.' Carrot turned back to Sybil. 'Shall we go?'


	29. Chapter 29

'Angua?'

Angua tried to slide up and rest her head on the back of the bed, but ended up slumping back down onto the sheets. She grimaced, and pushed herself up, only letting herself slightly wince.

'Sybil?' she asked.

Sybil Ramkin ran at her and stopped just short of strangling her. Angua gasped for breath. 'Sybil, could you please let go.'

She heard Sybil sobbing and sighed, glancing over at Carrot, who was smiling slightly. 'Sybil! You're hurting me.'

Sybil stood up awkwardly. 'Are you alright?'

'Well, I've been better. And now my neck hurts.'

'Sorry.' Sybil turned to Carrot, who nodded. 'Angua, can you walk?'

'I don't know. Probably, but I know Lawn won't let me.'

'I'll speak to him.' Sybil, in a rather unflattering nurse's uniform, managed to sweep out of the room towards Lawn's office. Angua gulped.

Carrot walked over to her and sat down on the corner of the bed. 'What's all this about, then?' she asked.

'Do you know Charlie Tabram?'

'Yes. Brother of Matt, the ringleader of this whole operation.'

'He wants to talk. But he'll only talk to you, and he won't come here.'

'He's at the Lady Sybil?'

'Yes. It's not far, but I didn't know if you felt up to it.'

'I can try.' Angua managed to swing herself out of bed and sat there for a moment, panting. 'Carrot, will you get me some clothes. Lawn says there's some in that wardrobe there that should be my size.'

Carrot let her balance on the headboard and went over to the cupboard in the corner of the room. He rifled through the clothes for a minute and pulled out a loosely fitting cotton dress. 'Will this do?'

'Probably.' He brought it over and she slipped it over her head, trying not to clench her stomach at all. She stood up shakily and pulled it over the rest of her, leaning on Carrot's arm.

'Are you sure that you'll be alright?' Carrot said concernedly.

'I'll be fine,' Angua said harshly. Her tone softened as she felt Carrot's worry. 'I'll be able to do it, Carrot.'

He nodded and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. 'Sybil?' he called.

Sybil emerged from Lawn's office, slightly red faced. 'She can go,' she said firmly.

Lawn emerged behind her. 'I really don't think you should be doing this. Carrot, look at her, she looks like death warmed up.'

'Oi!' Angua protested. Lawn carried on regardless.

'She's just had a miscarriage, Carrot. She's in no state to go anywhere.'

Angua span round and confronted Lawn. 'Look, I'm fine, alright. And I know me better than you do, so don't think you can make decisions for me.'

'It's my job, Angua.'

'No, your job is to heal me, and you've done that. So let me go.'

Lawn raised his eyebrows. 'Why do you even want to go?'

'Because if I go, I can actually do something, instead of being stuck here.' She relented at Lawn's disappointed look. 'I know it's better for me to lie still and whatnot, but this lad will only talk to me, and he knows stuff.'

'How do you know?' Carrot asked from behind her.

'Because he's always with Matt. Always. When I was following Matt before...that...Charl was with him then.'

'So why would he then turn his back?'

Angua shrugged. 'That's what I intend to find out.'

Lawn looked at her stony face. 'I'll give you an hour.' Angua raised her eyebrows. 'Alright, the evening. But then you're staying with me for the night.'

She nodded. 'Thank you.'

'Just be careful,' he pleaded. 'I haven't got a clue what's going to happen to her.'

'I wouldn't be anything else.'

* * *

Angua walked into the hospital ward and smiled at Charlie Tabram, who was sitting awkwardly on a white chair.

'Do you want to go somewhere a bit more private?' she asked him.

Charlie nodded, and glanced over her shoulder at Carrot, who was trying to discretely stand in the doorway.

'He doesn't have to come if you don't want him to.'

Charlie shook his head. 'Just you,' he said quietly.

Angua nodded. 'Sybil, is there anywhere we can go?'

'I'll take you.' Sybil led them down a staircase into a small room with a couple of chairs in the corner. It looked like it was used for dealing with the more difficult patients, and Charlie looked apprehensively at it. Angua lit the candles which were placed in brackets on the walls, but it only made the darkness more threatening.

Angua sighed. 'Well, it'll have to do. Carrot, can I borrow your notebook?' Charlie's eyes widened as Carrot passed the notebook. 'Don't worry, it's just for me to be able to remember what you've said. It won't be used as evidence or anything like that.'

Charlie looked slightly relieved, but still glared at the notebook. Angua gestured for Carrot and Sybil to leave, giving Carrot a little smile as he warily looked between them, and pulled the two chairs up near to the candles. Charlie sat down slowly.

'So, Charlie, you alright?' Angua asked him kindly.

Charlie looked at her worriedly, but nodded. Angua grimaced; it was going to be a long interview.

She decided to leap straight in. 'So, what do you want to tell me?'

Charlie took a deep breath. 'My brother, Matt, he's the ringleader of all of us.' Angua raised her eyebrows at the 'us' but Charlie carried on. 'And we thought be would be a good leader, y'know, but now it's all going a bit far. I mean, we were all in favour of embarrassing the cops a bit, but not killing em. No one thought it would come to killing them.'

'So why have you come here now?' Angua said harshly. 'Five coppers, nearly six down, and you speak now?'

'But that was five all spread out. And what Matt's planning now...'

'Yes?'

'It's...it's like a massacre. He's got people all over the city, waiting for the cops to think nothing more's going to happen, but they're gonna stab any copper they see.'

'And why would they do that?'

'Well, they're the sort of dumb idiots that would. They'll do anything if a bloke in the pub tells them to. Their arm moves, their brain don't think about it.'

'I know the sort.' Angua sighed. 'And it's going to happen tonight.'

Charlie shrugged. 'Tonight, tomorrow night. He's got people out now, but it all depends on whether the coppers are out or whether they stay in. Not that I'm giving you any advice, of course,' he said carefully.

Angua grinned ruefully. 'We're grateful of any we can get, to be honest.' She stood up and walked over to the door. 'Carrot!'

Carrot appeared, and she gave him the notebook back. He skimmed over it, and nodded. 'We'll get the clacks.'

'They can read the clacks,' Charlie chipped in.

'Right. We'll do it the old fashioned way. Fireworks. Two red, one blue, that's the code for lockdown. We've got stocks in every watch house.'

'How are we going to get to each station?'

'How about nurses?' Charlie said. Carrot nodded, and turned round to Sybil, who was standing behind him.

'Get a few of the fastest out to three or four watch houses, tell them it's two red one blue. They'll know.'

'I'm on it.' Sybil walked away quickly, and they could hear her shouting orders down the corridor.'

Angua turned back to Charlie. 'Do you want me to stay here?'

The boy shrugged. 'Do you have to go?'

'Carrot probably wouldn't let me go,' she said pragmatically.

Carrot nodded from behind her. 'You're staying here.' She opened her mouth to protest, and he grinned at her. 'Nope. Not a chance, hun.'

Angua rolled her eyes, but didn't say anything. 'Carrot, could you get Lawn? I need some more of those painkillers.'

Immediately he came up to her and felt her forehead. 'Are you alright?'

'Well, as I'll ever be, but the pain's coming back a bit.'

'Where abouts?'

'Where do you think, Carrot?'

'You don't think...?'

'No. It's not her. I would know.'

Charlie decided to chip in again. 'If you're pregnant you shouldn't really risk anything.'

'Exactly.' Angua turned back to Carrot. 'So, please can you get the painkillers.'

He rested his hand on her shoulder for a brief moment. 'Alright. But do you want me to stay with you?'

'I'll be fine. And I think an impending massacre of Watchmen might be more important.'

'You'd be surprised,' he murmured, kissing her on the cheek. He walked out slowly.

Angua turned back to Charlie. 'Sorry about that.'

Charlie looked a bit uncomfortable now. 'The baby, is...is she going to be alright?'

Angua sighed. 'I don't know. I've already lost two.'

'When?'

'Last night. Ironically, when I was tracking you and your brother. But I lost the trail after...yeah.'

Charlie nodded sympathetically. 'My ma had a miscarriage a couple of years after I was born. Nearly ruined her.'

'How did she stop it?' Angua blurted out.

'What, from ruining her? She just focused everything onto me and Matt, I guess. Trying to make up for losing the kid. That's part of the reason I came; it's not fair for her to have been killed by her own son.'

**Please review :)**


	30. Chapter 30

**We're nearly at the end. Stay with me, people! **

The fireworks started. Everyone knew what that meant.

Cheery was helping Reg to pull the heavy door across the entrance to Chittling Street watch house, right in the centre of the Shades. Reg's arms kept falling off.

'Reg, do you want to go and get someone else to help with this?' she asked.

'I'll be fine,' Reg replied, taping his arm back on. 'Anyway, we've nearly got it.'

Cheery pushed harder on the door, feeling her arms erupt in flames, and it finally slid neatly across. She slumped against the wall, breathing heavily.

'Sarge!' someone called from upstairs.

Cheery stood up and wiped her forehead. 'What is it?'

'Window's provin' to be a bit tricky!'

Sighing, she walked across the hallway and started up on the stairs. Responsibility was all very well and good, but not when you were the only sergeant in the place whose arms didn't fall off.

Chittling Street was where they put the rookies, just, as Vimes said, to give them a flavour of policing the city. This policy worked, but it did mean that in emergencies you were stuck with a bunch of lance constables who had no idea what to do and the ever present Corporal Ping.

She walked into one of the rooms upstairs and saw a group of people staring forlornly at a window. 'What's happening?'

One of the constables turned round and looked at her. 'Bars won't go on.'

'You sure?'

Wordlessly, he handed her a set of iron bars. She walked up to the window, pulled the latch out of the way, and it fitted in perfectly.

She turned round and looked at them. 'How the hell did you lot get through training?'

There was a collective murmur.

'Well?'

Reg walked into the room, still carrying one arm. 'Alright, dumbos?' he asked.

The group seemed to perk up. 'Alright, sarge?'

Reg sat down and watched the group disperse. 'Bloody useless lot, those,' he told Cheery. 'Mister Vimes used to hope that they'd get killed cos of their stupidity.'

'Why did he recruit them?'

'Well, you always need people to stay behind and deal with the stupid idiots who come in. Stupidity can understand stupidity a lot better than intelligence can. These ones are the people who get sent out whenever we have a particularly awkward case.'

Cheery nodded. 'Why are they all here, then?'

'Well, this is where we get the bulk of the stupids. But we try to rotate them between the watch houses, but they just seem to gravitate back here.'

'And we've been put in charge of them,' Cheery said grimly. 'Great.'

'Take it as a compliment. Angua's admiring your tolerance.'

'Angua?'

'She wrote all the plans, didn't she? I saw them all in her handwriting, and Carrot wouldn't understand the importance of putting trolls with dwarfs with humans with undeads, would he? Someone to speak for every group.'

'So we've got me, you, Ping, and this lot?'

'And we should have Bauxite, but it's his grandmother's funeral.'

'Brighter than he looks, then.'

Reg had stood up and was watching the streets out of the now barred window. 'Looks quiet, doesn't it.'

'Lockdown's lockdown, Reg. We're supposed to wait until we get orders.'

'Wonder why they're not using the clacks.'

'The rebels can probably read them. Most people can, now.'

Reg shrugged. 'Wasn't like this last time. Last time there was no secrecy, no creeping around. You knew where you stood last time.'

They heard a knock on the door come from downstairs. 'Don't answer that!' Cheery shouted as she ran down the stairs.

A group of the stupids were crowding round the front door. Cheery marched through them and peered out of the spy hole. She saw a man frantically gesturing at her, and frowned.

She opened the door just a crack and peered out. 'Oi!' she said quietly.

The man waved something at her which she couldn't read. 'Hold it still,' she told him.

It was a badge. But not just any badge, a Cable Street badge.

Cheery narrowed her eyes. 'How do you get into Treacle Mine Road?'

'You hit the back window about half way up. Why?'

She opened the door just enough to let him in. 'Where have you come from?'

'Pseudopolis Yard. The Commander called us all in.'

Cheery didn't trust the Particulars, even if they were just detectives now. Anyone who was too frightened to wear the uniform in their line of work was doing something wrong. Still, she would admit that they were useful in jobs like this.

'What's he saying?'

'That there's a massacre of watchmen planned. Any watchman that goes out now'll be stabbed. Apparently the guy who's running all of this has got people everywhere.'

'And how does Carrot know this?'

'Informer, apparently.'

'Someone defected?'

'Looks like it. Let's hope that they felt they were joining the winning side.'

'Right. So what are we to do?'

'Sit tight, basically. Don't let anyone go in or out if they're in uniform, all businesses who deliver food have been told to go round the back door, and they'll arrive in the middle of the day, instead of in the morning. If you've got any messages, I'm to stay here.'

'And when are we getting out?'

The man shrugged. 'Who knows? Whenever we get news that they've stopped, I guess.'

**Please review :)**


	31. Chapter 31

**APOLOGY: at the moment, writing may be slower than usual due to impending exams and me failing physics. Still, I will write, and I will procrastinate, and at some point or other I will finish this story. I will. **

**P.S. This chapter sees the return of footnotes. Don't ask me why, I just haven't found anything to footnote for a while, but now I have. I just hope that I would make Pterry proud. **

**Enjoy :)**

Shorty loitered around Sator Square, idly waiting for whoever chose to come round the corner.

He missed his badge. True, he'd only had it for half an hour until the call came in and he was sent out plain clothes, but he missed it nonetheless. He couldn't help thinking that now he was hiding from both sides.

'Wotcher, Shorty.'

Shorty turned round and stared into the darkness. 'Alf?'

'Aye.' Alf Wallace swaggered out of the mouth of an alleyway, banging his hip on the wall. 'Bugger.'

Shorty stifled a smile. 'You with Matt's boys?' he asked quietly.

'Aye.' Alf looked at him out of narrowed eyes. 'Where've you bin last coupla days?'

'Ah, just around. Thought people was gettin suspicious of me.'

'That's what we want, mate. We want the publicity!' Alf slapped him on the shoulder. 'Ain't no use hidin away.'

'I weren't!'

'Suit yerself. Anyway, Matt wants to see you.'

Shorty looked frantically around. 'He isn't here?'

'Relax. He's back at base.'

Shorty turned back round and raised his eyebrows. '_Base_?'

'Y'know, the old building behind Pearl Dock.'

'That's _base_?'

'Yep.' Alf seemed unperturbed. 'At the moment. But we don't think we'll be chucked out of this one, cos the revolution's started.'

'Well, that's good for you, ain't it,' Shorty said dryly. The Watch taught you certain habits early on.

'You alright, mate?'

'Yeah. Fine. Listen, what does he want me to do?'

'Well, first you're to go see him, though you don't seem too keen to do that. If you want you can stay wiv me.'

'And what're you doing?'

'Me, I'm hunting coppers. I see a copper, I shoots them. Simple as?'

'Shoot?'

'Yeah. Matt's nicked a load of Watch crossbows, and we're to shoot the buggers.' Shorty flinched, but Alf didn't notice. 'Add...what is it? Metal stuff?'

'Irony?'

'That's the bugger. Why do we need to add that, you think?'

'Dunno.'*

'Well, it's to add that.' Alf thought about it for a moment. 'Maybe it's cos of the arrow.'

'What?'

'Well, the arrow's iron, ain't it?'

'Think it's steel. Sort of iron, anyway.'

'Who cares? Anyway, I shoot then run. Trouble is, all them buggers've disappeared.'

* * *

*Most of the Watch officers thought they knew what irony was. They thought it meant something was like iron.

* * *

Carrot slunk back to Pseudopolis Yard. Well, he tried to.

It is very hard for a tall man to slink. For one thing, to slink well you have to stay close to the ground. For another thing, the person has to think themselves slinking. Carrot had a very hard time pretending not to be a tall man who was currently walking as if he was inside a dwarf mine.

The man coming towards him with a crossbow couldn't slink either.

Carrot reached out one arm and the man collapsed. There was a flurry of whispers, and several shadows became slightly lighter.

Carrot walked over to the fallen man and stood over him. The man had evidently decided that the best option for now was to stay quiet.

Carrot leant down and tried to work out who the man was. 'James Coolie, yes?'

Jamie 'Tonker' Coolie didn't reply.

'Sorry, James, but that was necessary. Never trust a man with a crossbow, I've been told.' He picked up the crossbow and twirled it around in his fingers, gently clicking the safety catch a couple of times. 'Turns out I didn't have anything to worry about, James. Have you ever used a crossbow before?'

Tonker shook his head.

'Well, the first thing you learn is that if the safety catch isn't off, you can't use it. It's not much use otherwise. Look here,' he clicked the catch off and absentmindedly pointed it at Tonker, 'that's how you use a crossbow. Alright?'

Tonker gulped, and nodded.

'Now, James, I can't let the fact that you tried to kill me go amiss. Now, I really don't want to do this, because I know what will happen to you if I do, but I'm going to take you back to the Yard. We're nice there, and we'll give you a cup of tea, and then when this is all over we'll let you go. That alright?'

Tonker nodded and stood up shakily. Carrot patted him on the back amiably. 'Alright then, son?'

He led him back to the Yard, making sure that they kept in the shadows just to keep the boy safe. He went round the back door of the watch house and fiddled above the door frame for the key*. Unlocking the door released a cacophony of noise and shouts.

He strode into the room. It went silent.

'What's going on here, then?'

The whole room changed careers to the Synchronised Floor And Ceiling Examiners. Carrot sighed. 'I'm taking this lad down to the cells and getting him a cup of tea. When I get back I want an explanation.'

He led Tonker down the stairs, smiling faintly at the hurried whispers behind him.

'Which cell?' he asked.

Tonker stared at him. 'What? I get a choice?'

'Well, we store coal in the end one, but apart from that you can choose. I wouldn't recommend cell 3, though. There's a rather obscene drawing on the ceiling which we can't get off. I tried to, but then Angua came and laughed at me.' He hung his head. 'She had to explain it.'

Tonker wandered over to the cell and tilted his head up. 'Huh,' he said. He walked back.

'I'll pick the first one.'

'Good choice.' Carrot handed him a bunch of keys. 'Here you are. The kettle's on the side there, tea's in the top drawer. If you're lucky there's a chocolate biscuit, if not there's always the stale digestive in the back.'

'I don't think I'm hungry.'

'Suit yourself.' Carrot made to walk off.

'Wait.'

Carrot turned back round. 'Yes?'

'Aren't you going to interrogate me or something?'

'Do you want to be interrogated?'

'No!'

Carrot sighed. 'Good. Because Angua's not here and I've never really got the hang of it. And we know what you're doing, so there's really no use in interrogating you.'

'How do you know?'

Carrot's mouth twitched. 'We have our sources. And now I must go and sort out the people who are supposed to be the law around here.'

* * *

*People always put their keys here, probably even criminals**.They then wonder why someone's been able to get into their house.

**Who, when you got down to it, weren't that different from Watchmen.

* * *

Nobby knew not to volunteer. However, he had imparted this lesson to several other people, who had told several others each. And now he was being pushed out of the group and into Carrot.

'You alright, Nobby?' Carrot asked concernedly.

Nobby took a step backwards. 'Yep.'

'You going to give me the reason, then?'

Nobby glanced around at his fellow coppers, who glared at him. 'Well, it's just cabin fever, sir. We're a bit sick of being stuck in here, to be honest.'

'And do you know why you're stuck in here?'

'Well, we heard something about assassins.*

'No, Nobby, not assassins. The rebels are out to kill anyone who goes out.'

There was a collective murmur as the crowd of policemen tried to work this out. 'You mean like Assassins, commander?'

'Not quite, because these aren't doing it for the money.'

The crowd nodded. They understood this concept.

'But they're going to kill any copper who goes out, so we're staying put. Everyone alright with that?'

A hand was tentatively raised.

'Yes?'

'We're out of Bourbons, commander. Can Dorfl go and get some?'

'As long as he takes his badge off.'

'Um, sir?'

'Yes?'

'What about the Bucket? It's only down the road?'

'No, constable. You cannot go to the Bucket, however close it is.' There was a groan.

'Um, sir?'

'Yes?'

'What about our families? I mean, our mum'll be worried.'

'I'm sure she'll be happier knowing that you're in here safe. Anyone else?'

'Um, Carrot?'

Carrot turned and looked at Colon, who was standing there fidgeting. 'Yes?'

'Um, can I talk to you a moment?'

'Of course. At ease, men.'

The crowd reluctantly shuffled off and Carrot turned to Colon. 'Are you alright?'

Colon looked at him dead in the eye. 'Are you alright?'

Carrot sagged. 'I've got no idea what I'm doing, Fred.'

'Well, you're hidin it well, lad.'

Carrot fiddled with his badge. 'I mean, I've put lockdown on, and I've sent out a few of the Cable Street officers, but apart from that I don't really know what to do. I mean, what are they going to do?'

'The rebels? Oh, they'll get bored after a while.'

'Fred, you know as well as I do that that's not going to happen.'

'It's either that or they'll stage some sort of attack. And we don't want that.'

'But it might happen. And what the hell do we do then?'

Colon glanced at his commander, who he still thought of as the boy of sixteen who tried to arrest a dragon. 'Carrot, calm down.'

Carrot breathed heavily. 'I'm sorry. I just haven't got any idea what to do.'

'Do you want me to get Angua?'

Carrot stayed silent for a moment. 'Yes. But not right now. Now, I want to get Vimes's notes about the last revolution out.'

'I think we threw them all away.'

'Not the ones in the bottle drawer.'

Colon flinched. 'Well, that was his. We wouldn't touch that.'

'Angua did.'

'She did? What was in there?'

'Some notes about the revolution, apparently. I don't know how he got them.'

'Probably just memories. And Carrot, you do realise that this is different?'

Carrot was already walking up the stairs. 'Can't be that much different. They're still rebelling, aren't they?'

* * *

*On the Disc, Chinese Whispers were Ephebian Whispers. It was still the same concept though, and sooner or later the last word will be Cabbage.


	32. Chapter 32

**Right, exciting news: I MET CARROT TODAY!**

**I didn't actually meet him, by the way. It was just someone who looked very like him, and acted a lot like him (he said please after every sentence. Aw.) He came into the shop where I work, but didn't buy dog biscuits. I was very disappointed. **

**Anyway, to mark the occasion (I was very excited) I decided to write two chapters today. Yes, two. **

**Enjoy :)**

Carrot pulled a scrap of paper from out of the bottle drawer and read it.

_Date: Octeday, 27th May, Year of the Flattened Hedgehog (I thynk)_

_Will happn again._

_Unlykly to happn while survivors live, but history repeats. Sweeper told me that._

_Note: can monks see the future? Ask soon. Clay Lane - use feet. Beer bottle._

_Must organys. Watch Shades - no control by patrician. No rule. Guilds - yes. People - yes. Shades - no._

Next to it was a sheet torn out of a history book. Well, it looked like a history book.

_The Glorious Revolution of the Twenty-Fifth of May occyred due to rising taxes and increased oppression. Curfews had been establyshed by Psychoneurotic _(Carrot frowned at that word) _Lord Wynder, after uncovering many plots and spys against him, most of which were not true but fabrycations of his neurotic nature._

Carrot didn't understand a word of this, so moved on.

_A dispute/argument debate on the subject of the Glorious Revolution, which occyred on the Twenty-Fifth of May. Discussion point: how could it have been changed?_

Below it was scrawled: _It couldn't. And what can you do now?_

Carrot leant back and sighed. 'Well, this isn't much use.'

'Keep looking,' Colon said optimistically.

Carrot scanned down the rest of the page, and noticed another note down at the bottom.

_What do the bloody wizards know abo_

The rest of the leaflet had been singed off.

'Aw, come on.'

* * *

Matt Tabram was pacing up and down the rickety top floor of the building behind Pearl Dock. The beams creaked ominously.

'Where the hell are they?' he yelled.

Several people around the room flinched.

'How could they know?'

The room stayed silent. Matt kept pacing, occasionally whacking the beams with his fists.

'And where's my brother?'

* * *

Angua and Charlie Tabram were siting with their backs against the wall nearest to the gas lamp, trying to make the most of the light.

'You can go up into the main hospital, you know,' she told him.

He shook his head frantically. 'Someone might see me.'

'They wouldn't be in any state to report back to Matt.'

'This hospital aims to help people. They'd be out again sharpish.'

'Fair enough.' Angua looked over at the boy, who's sharp features made his cheeks seem almost hollow in the dim light.

'Why would he do this?' he whispered.

'Matt?'

Charlie nodded.

Angua sighed. 'Well, people get a taste for power. So they exploit it, they do whatever they can to get more, whatever it takes. They start to not care who dies for it, to them deaths become a statistic, either on their side or the other. And they get more power, and more, and they think hang on, why should anyone else have more power than me, so they try and beat whoever it is who has that power. And then they're at the top, and they have to stay in control, because the thing about being on top is that you're always on shaky ground...'

Angua's eyes had glazed over. She seemed to be thinking of something else.

'...so they'll kill even more people, so that everyone's terrified of them. And they enjoy that fear, they love the people who cower away from them. It makes them feel good, like they've got all the power in the world...'

'Um, miss?'

Angua snapped out of the trance. 'Huh?'

'Were you thinking about someone else?'

Angua tried to clear her head. 'Maybe. It's not the first time that this has happened, after all.'

Charlie was watching her carefully. 'What happened to him?'

'Who?'

'The person who you were talking about.'

Angua shuddered. 'He died.'

Charlie seemed fascinated. 'How?'

'He tried to catch a firework.'

'Was that a mettyfor?'

'Nope.'

'Oh.'

'Yep. It wasn't pretty. But then he was gone, and the world was a little better for it.'

'Miss?'

'Yes?'

'Will the world be a little bit better if Matt's dead?'

Angua hesitated for a moment. 'It's hard to say,' she said slowly. 'It might be better for some, it might be worse for some.'

'It'll be better for me,' Charlie said bluntly.

Angua glanced at him. 'No family love lost there, then?'

Charlie scoffed. 'What family love? You've seen what he did to me.'

She nodded, remembering the smell of blood. 'Did that happen a lot?'

'Too much. Like you said, a taste for power.'

'I know the feeling,' Angua murmured.

'Family problems yourself?'

'Could say that. But I came here.'

'Where are you from?'

'Uberwald. My family's big up there?'

'You're a werewolf, yes?' She didn't reply, but Charlie continued. 'I've heard about them. Not the best family.'

'Very true.'

'That's why you left?'

'Pretty much. I ran away from home when I was sixteen.'

'How long ago was that?'

'A while.'

Charlie grinned briefly. 'Suit yourself. And life is better now?'

'Yes. You could say that. I've got Carrot, I've got this one.'

He nodded. 'I should run away.'

'No, you really shouldn't.'

'Why not?'

'Because I've got a feeling that after this your situation might change a little.'

Charlie stared at her. 'You think...?'

She shrugged. 'Well, it's what happens, isn't it? Either the rebel leader dies, or the person they're opposing dies. And I won't let them take Carrot.'

'You're not there.'

'Oh, I will be.' Somehow, she knew he'd call.

Charlie appeared to think for a moment. 'I'll be glad when it's over.'

'We all will.'

* * *

'Where the hell are they?'

'Matt...'

_'Where_!'

The messenger stayed silent. Matt walked over to a chair placed in the middle of the room and sat down heavily.

'So, any news?' he asked icily.

'There has been a sighting of Shorty Turner.'

'Where?'

'He's on patrol with Alf Wallace. He doesn't look to be any different, just said that people were starting to suspect him.'

'What did he bloody expect?'

'We're keeping an eye on him. No sign of Charlie.'

'The bastard.'

The messenger knew Charlie Tabram fairly well, and liked him. Still, he felt it prudent to agree.

'Get the men out. I want them surrounding every watch house.'

'Yes, sir.'

'And failing that, if it gets to dawn, tell them all to return.'

'What for?'

Matt grinned. The candlelight flickered.

'You'll see.'

**Oh, and by the way, I did make the Year of the Flattened Hedgehog up. If the year that Night Watch is in is specified in the books, please forgive me, and feel free to correct me. **


	33. Chapter 33

Dawn broke.

Someone nudged Nobby in the chest, waking him up.

'Oi!'

Colon rolled back over, and started snoring. Nobby was left staring at the ceiling, counting the floorboards.

Carrot walked down the creaky stairs and looked at his men, lying on the floor and tables of the canteen. He sighed, and moved over to the kettle.

Nobby stood up, wincing at the pain in his back. 'Alright, lad?'

Carrot turned round, a mug of milk in his hand. Nobby could see the paper creases in his cheeks. 'Morning, corporal. Are the rest still asleep?'

'Looks that way. They won't be up for a while yet.'

'Are they alright now?'

'Seem to be. The curry helped, of course.'

Carrot had sent out for thirty tikka masalas and a crate of poppadoms. It had improved morale immensely, but the smell wouldn't be gone for weeks.

'I need someone to go to the Lady Sybil,' Carrot told him.

'I'll go.'

'No. People know you're a copper. Send one of the new recruits.'

Nobby kicked one of the men lying behind him, who rolled over with a groan and looked at Carrot. 'Alright?' he mumbled.

'How did you sleep, constable?' Carrot asked pleasantly.

The man narrowed his eyes. 'It was okay,' he replied cautiously.

'You know where the Lady Sybil is, yes?'

'Up at Goose Gate? Yeah.'

'I need you to take your uniform off, get some plain clothes on, and ask Dr Lawn for Angua. Tell her to come back here.'

'Shall I give a reason?'

'Just tell her I called.'

'Alright, commander. Am I going to get paid for this?'

'No,' Nobby replied.

'Oh. Okay.' The man walked into the locker room. He appeared a couple of minutes later in street clothes.

'Good lad.' Carrot patted him on the shoulder. 'Might be a promotion in order for you, you've been working well.'

'Have I?'

'Yep. So off you go.'

Nobby and Carrot watched him walk out of the back door. 'No he hasn't.'

'I know.'

'They why did you offer him a promotion?'

'I didn't, Nobby. If he thinks he'll get corporal from it, he might start working.'

Nobby considered this. 'Or he could just go round tellin' everyone you've promoted him.'

'Where's his evidence? I haven't given him anything. I didn't even give him my word.'

'Fair enough. And you don't think he'll get shot?'

'No. Seeing as I've had the Cable Street lads out all night and they've said that everyone's disappeared.'

'Why would they do that?'

* * *

'Right, comrades.' Matt Tabram surveyed his troops.

His troops. No one else's. Just his. And yes, they were a bunch of raggedy boys and young men from the Shades, and most of them might not be able to hold a sword the right way up, but they were his troops.

'Right, lads. Here's what we're going to do.'

The troops gathered in.

Shorty Turner had become just another face in the crowd.

* * *

'Shorty. You're back.'

Shorty stood with his hands on his knees.

'They'll attack in half an hour,' he wheezed.

'Where?'

'Here.'

Reg turned round to Colon. 'Get Carrot. Send a message to the clacks to get the trolls in. They weren't working anyway.'

Colon nodded, and ran out.

* * *

'Carrot, what's going on?'

Carrot turned round from where he had been writing a message. 'You alright?'

Angua walked over to him and glanced down at the piece of paper. 'Why are you calling the trolls back?'

'They weren't working. It turns out that they figured they didn't need to build barricades after Detritus left for Chittling Street.'

'Why did he leave?'

'Because I told him to. They were in a pretty bad way after the attack.'

Angua nodded. 'So all the trolls did was stand there?'

'Yep.'

'I overestimated their brain power, didn't I?'

'No, you didn't. I would have thought that the ones who were ours would have done the thing we told them to, but after we called back the Watch trolls the rest weren't doing much.'

'So what's happening now?'

Carrot posted the message down the tube, blew the end of it to make sure that it went through, and turned back to her. 'Well, they'll attack in twenty minutes.'

'Twenty minutes?'

'Yes. So I've kept all of the other watch houses in lockdown, because they're only going to attack here. They figure that if the commander's gone no one'll know what to do.'

'But there's me, and there's Reg, and Colon and Nobby.'

Carrot smiled mirthlessly. 'Exactly. If they get rid of me it'll pass to you. I've written it down.'

Angua watched him silently. 'You think they'll kill you.'

'They've got to, haven't they? It's either me who dies or Matt.'

'Who says it won't be Matt?'

'Public opinion, I guess.'

'But far more people came to us.'

'But where are they?'

'I think they were sent home when you ordered lockdown,' Angua said slowly.

Carrot walked over to the desk and leaned against it. 'It won't work. Whatever we do, it won't work.'

Angua stood there silently for a moment. Finally, she spoke.

'Then let's do nothing.'


	34. Chapter 34

**This is it. This is the final chapter. **

**It feels like the end of an era. And no, I'm not going to make a speech or burst into song. **

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, and feel like it's a good ending :)**

The mob attacked.

Again.

They swarmed through the narrow streets of the Shades, shouting rebel curses and old fashioned insults. They roared through the lanes of Morpork and the Isle of Gods, where a couple of the more well educated paused to admire the posters on the walls of the Opera House. The others wolf whistled at the actresses as they went to work.

People watched them out of open windows, not frightened enough of a group of stupid little boys who didn't know a decent thing when they saw it. People tutted, and turned away from the mob.

No one was picked up as they marched through. Traditionally, there are always a couple of people who tag along as the army's walking through, but this time no one could be bothered. They'd seen a few too many revolutions for that.

They marched around Pseudopolis Yard and reconvened outside the watch house. Matt walked through from the middle of the crowd and nodded. One quick nod.

Someone had a sledgehammer. They broke the door down, and it tore off its hinges, screaming.

When the dust had settled and everyone had stopped coughing, the rebels peered through the doorway at the Watch.

Angua smiled grimly.

The mob hesitated in the doorway, not quite sure what to do.

The people of the Watch were sitting in rows on the rickety chairs of the canteen, looking at the mob. Next to them, in a pile which was a little too large for the comfort of the mob, were the weapons and armour, discarded.

'Come on!' Matt yelled.

The mob didn't move.

'What the hell's going on?' Matt stormed through and glared at the Watch. 'What the hell are you doing?'

The Watch watched him.

Matt stood there, breathing heavily. Finally, he turned round to his mob. 'Come on!'

A couple of the people shuffled, looking uncomfortable. 'Can't attack unarmed men,' one mumbled.

'Why the hell not!'

The man raised his head. 'It's unfair. Look, some of them are playing cards at the back. We can't kill them.'

The two men quickly hid their cards behind their backs. The more intelligent of the two took the opportunity to try and glance at his opponents cards.

'It means we'll win!'

'But then what?' Carrot asked.

Matt span round and glared at him. 'Well, it'll be a better world than this.'

'How?' Carrot asked simply.

'What?'

'How?'

Matt fumbled over his words. 'Well, we'll have got rid of you lot.'

'And what difference will that make?' Colon asked quietly.

Matt was silent.

Carrot walked around to the front of his men and stood face to face with Matt. 'What do we do?'

Matt was silent. Carrot sighed. 'Anyone?'

A rather naive lance-constable* piped up from the back. 'You protect the city.'

'That's right, Lance-Constable Atkin.' Carrot turned back to Matt. 'That's what we do.'

'You're the evil oppressors,' Matt shouted.

'How?'

'Because you think we're below you all! You think that we're scum!'

'Lance-Constable Atkin, Constable Nichols, Corporal Nobbs, Constable Silver, can you please stand up,' Carrot said quietly.

The four men stood up.

'Corporal Keely, Lance-Constable Andrews, Sergeant Colon.'

They stood up.

'Constable Jackson, Constable Brown.'

Half the squad were now standing.

Carrot looked straight at Matt. 'Do you know what's the same between all of these people?'

Matt shook his head, though he knew the answer.

'They're all from the Shades, Matt. Every single one of them is from the Shades. Who's from Cockbill Street?'

A couple of people put their hands up.

'You see?' Carrot paused for a minute. 'You know, I could almost feel sorry for you. You've obviously been influenced by some people with the wrong ideas during your time, but it's the fact that you felt the need to create a cult out of those ideas.'

He looked at the mob. 'Who of you has ever been insulted by a policeman?'

No one spoke.

'Who out of you has been subject to police brutality?'

One man raised a hand and Carrot sighed. 'Yes, we knew about you, Michael. But it was in a pub, after he had finished for the day, you had tried to stab him with a bottle and didn't notice that he was an orang-utan. And he wasn't wearing a badge, so technically it didn't count.'

'He was still a watchman, though,' Matt said harshly.

'He's a special constable, and his day job is a librarian. Anyway, we suspended him for a time as a punishment. We don't allow police brutality.'

'Well, you do allow oppression.'

'How?'

'Well, you don't allow us to do what we want.'

'No, we don't allow you to do things that might cause harm to others.'

'But what if we want to hurt them?'

'I bet that whoever's being stabbed isn't so fond of being hurt,' Reg replied harshly. He lifted his shirt to show the stitches in his chest.

'Oh, for gods' sakes,' Matt shouted. 'I've had enough of this.'

He turned round to the crowd. 'Come on!'

No one moved.

Angua started walking forwards. 'Carrot,' she said softly. 'Badge.'

Wordlessly, Carrot handed it over to her. He stepped backwards, and she went to stand in front of Matt.

'Matthew Tabram,' she said quietly. 'I arrest you for orchestrating the murders of Constable Coles, Lance-Constable Smith, Corporal McKenzie, Corporal Alexa and Lance-Constable Mylett, orchestrating the attempted murders of Corporal Nobbs and Corporal Shoe and murdering Eleanor Tabram and Samuel Vimes.'

'What?' Carrot shouted.

Matt raised his head very slowly. 'You've got no proof.'

Angua turned round. 'Shorty.'

Shorty Turner wordlessly stepped forward.

'Has Charlie come in?'

'Here.' Charlie stepped out of the canteen.

Angua turned back to Matt, who was glaring at his brother. 'We always use witnesses. You can't fault us for that.'

'Couldn't they be unreliable?'

'Oh, we have others. Me, for instance. And I'm sure that Joseph Long, who sold you the poison to kill Commander Vimes would be ever so pleased to help us with our enquiries.'

Carrot stepped forward. 'He killed Vimes?' he said hollowly.

'I'll let him answer that,' Angua replied.

'Who cares if I did?' Matt said harshly.

In front of him, the whole of the Watch stood up.

Matt fell silent. The mob started to turn round and walk through the door.

'Wait!' he screamed. He turned round to Angua. 'What the hell are you doing?'

'I'm carrying out the law,' she replied.

In answer, Matt raised his bow. Angua could see his hands shaking as he pointed it at her.

He pulled the trigger.

Someone screamed. Carrot jumped forward, his fist stretched out.

Angua turned round to Carrot and caught his arm in her hand. 'It didn't hit me.'

'Aw, bugger,' Reg Shoe said from behind them.

They turned round to see him wearily pulling a crossbow out of his arm. 'Why is it always me?'

Angua turned round to Matt. 'One shot, Matt, and you missed.'

He stared back at her. He knew when he was beaten.

Then he jerked backwards away from her. She reached out to try and grab him, and saw the crossbow bolt through his forehead. She turned round to Charlie Tabram, who was holding a crossbow in trembling hands.

She simply stared at him. He dropped it, and walked out of the door.

Matt's body was crumpled on the floor. It looked so much smaller. His crossbow had been flung out of his hand and lay on the floor next to him. He had looked weak with it, now he looked helpless.

Looking down at him, she saw the collapsed body of the five policemen, the corpse of Vimes, the falling, flailing body of Eleanor Tabram as she fell off the barricade. She saw the body of the man that she shot, collapsing backwards, looking straight at her...

She turned to Carrot, who was white as a sheet. 'Come on.'

He grabbed hold of Matt's legs as she lifted up his arms. The watchmen separated as they carried him through.

Awkwardly, they manoeuvred him into one of the cells. Gently, they placed him on the floor and stood looking at him.

Angua leaned onto Carrot's shoulder and wordlessly handed him back his badge. After a while she noticed that he was crying silently.

'Carrot?'

'This wasn't how I wanted it to end,' he said quietly.

She sighed as she looked at the crumpled body. 'It never turns out how you wanted.'

'I remember one of the witches telling me something when I was little. She said that there's no such thing as a happy ending. There's only an ending.'

'I suppose it's the way you look at it. For all those people who've been manipulated and tricked by this boy, it ended happily. For the boy who had to pull the trigger, it went both ways.'

'Why? Why did he...'

'Shoot him? He thought it would make the world better. It probably did.'

Carrot put his head in his hands. 'There should have been a trial. He should have had a hearing.'

'What good would I have done? He would have died anyway.'

'But it would have been fair.'

'He killed Vimes. He killed his mother. Did he deserve fair?'

'But he should have gotten fair. Otherwise there's nothing.' Carrot stared at the body. 'Why would he do that?'

Angua looked at his crushed expression. 'Maybe it was his idea of justice.'

Carrot nodded slowly. 'Well, we can't do anything for him.'

'We'll bury him down at Small Gods.' Angua smiled mirthlessly. 'Just to add irony.'

Carrot nodded and took her hand. 'What am I going to say?'

'You'll think of something. You always do.'

* * *

*There's always one.

* * *

Angua never heard Carrot's speech, though according to Reg it didn't make much sense. She was sitting in the square with Charlie Tabram.

'You didn't rat me out to them,' he said.

'What good would it have done?'

She stared out over the square, knowing that she was seeing the same thing as Charlie: Matt Tabram's body, falling, falling... Collapsing in the same way as his mother's did.

She had one more question to ask. 'Why did he do it?'

He replied in one word.

'Power.'

She nodded, and carried on staring.

* * *

Above them, Vimes looked down.

'It's over?'

IT WILL HAPPEN AGAIN, Death predicted.

'But it's finished for now.'

YES. FOR NOW.

'And do I go?'

IF YOU WANT TO. Death shrugged. YOU'VE ALWAYS BEEN ALLOWED TO GO.

'Can I do one more thing?'

WHAT?

Vimes held out his arm. The scar had gone, but he was holding something in his hand.

He threw it towards the future.

* * *

Five months later, screams could be heard.

'Why the hell did I sleep with you?'

Behind the door, the watchmen giggled.

'And tell them to stop eavesdropping!'

They ran.

Angua waited for a moment, then grinned wickedly. 'Do they know I've already had her?'

Carrot peered out of the crack in the door. 'Doesn't look like it. And that was mean.'

'Sorry. Got to make it realistic.'

Carrot walked over to her and stroked the hair, soaked with sweat, away from her eyes. He kissed her forehead.

Doctor Lawn entered, carrying a blanket. He gave it to Angua, who unwrapped it.

'But she's tiny.'

'She's a little bit premature, yes.'

'But she's too small.' Angua looked imploringly up at him. 'Make her bigger.'

'She'll grow, Angua. Anyway, she's a fairly healthy weight now. There's nothing you need to worry about.' He gently ruffled the baby's hair. 'And there aren't any signs.'

'She's normal?' Carrot asked hesitantly.

Lawn glanced at Angua. 'I think her mother should decide that.'

Angua bent her head to the blanket and sniffed slightly. She smiled through sudden tears.

'She's normal.'

Carrot exhaled. He stroked the baby's head, his hand looking huge against the tiny baby.

'Do you have any names?' Lawn asked.

Angua looked straight into the baby's eyes. They looked back at her with an expression of omniscience, blue just like Carrot's. She ran her fingers through the baby's feathery hair, which was bright blonde.

'Eleanor,' she said softly.

Carrot nodded beside her. The baby stretched out an arm towards him, and he gasped.

On her wrist, just above the pale blue veins, was a tiny scar, shaped like an eyeball with a floating tail.

Above them, Vimes vanished in a tiny blink of light.


End file.
